From The Manner Born
by caeciliusestinhorto
Summary: When Draco is sorted into Gryffindor what will change? What will remain the same? Will he get the girl, save the day and be a hero? Or will he pop out for a nice lunch just when the going gets tough? There's only one way to find out.
1. Chapter 1

_With apologies to J. , whose toybox this is and to my bed – I'll get back to you soon._

It was a grey and dreary August morning. In the sky the clouds were billowing as they scudded along, the weather slowly beginning to clear after the storm of last night. In Wiltshire a young boy was brushing his hair into shape, preparing to head off to town to buy his stuff for school.

'You ready, Boy?' Yelled his father, 'Stop making yourself pretty and lets go, I haven't got all day!'

'Coming, Father!'

The boy rushed downstairs, pausing only to apologise to an elderly house-elf he'd knocked over in his hurry, he turned the corner and there stood his father, resplendent in his black velvet cloak.

'Come on boy!' his father grabbed his arm and they disapparated only to arrive moments later in the family's London Home.

'Ahh you've finally arrived.' Said the boy's mother, 'I hope you brought your list, I've got an appointment with the hairdresser at three...'

'Well we better get going then', said the boy's father.

An hour and a half later they were back at the town house, with bags of shopping for the boy's mother and father, and the boy's school stuff.

'Dad,' wheedled the boy, 'I met this funny boy when I was getting my robes, he had black hair and he said he was with Hagrid'

'Do you mean a mudblood, boy?'

'No, Father, he said his parents had magic, that's what's so funny about it.'

'Did he say who he was?'

'No'

'hmm, it couldn't be _him_ could it? Might be, anyway, boy , that might have been Harry Potter'

'What? _The _Harry Potter'

'No, _a_ Harry Potter-yes of course boy- who else do you think I was talking about, Harry potter who does the weeds for Fred the milkman?!' by now, he was positively bellowing, ' I hope you didn't offend him boy, it's very important that you become friends with him, almost as important as getting sorted into Slytherin , in fact.' He calmed down.

'Father, why is it important?'

'Why isn't it important? Just remember this Draco, it's vitally important that you become his friend, do anything you have to. Meet him on the train, anything, just make sure he's sorted into Slyhterin with you. You understand?'

'Yes, Father.'

The last days of August passed slowly by, the last strawberries were picked, the first of next year's seedlings were planted in the greenhouse and soon came the first day of the new month. A quick trip to London and Draco found himself walking past the splendid gothic exterior of the St Pancras hotel and into King's Cross station. His Mother saw him through the barrier and onto the train and left immediately. Draco remembered his father's words and watched the barrier for Potter. First though he saw Crabbe and Goyle, sons of his father's friends and like him about to start at Hogwarts.

They spotted him and clambered into his compartment. Annoyed at being forced by social convention to quit his vigil and start conversation, Draco began to talk. Twenty minutes later a blast from the train's whistle brought Draco back to the task at hand. With a sudden jolt the train started. The noise of the slow puff of the engine began to rise, from what at first was a gentle sighing to a loud hammering as the train got underway. Clouds of smoke passed by the window and the mechanical rattles and squeaks of the comfortable carriages soon faded to a background noise as the train snaked out of the outskirts of London. Onto the main track to Hogsmeade, the driver brought the engine up to pace. The hammering rose to a vast thundering and the other sounds got faster.

'Anything off the Trolley, dears?' asked an elderly witch who pushed the sweets trolley. Crabbe and Goyle greedily brought as much as they could carry. Draco bought a packet of Drooble's gum and a small bar of chocolate. These soon disappeared and Draco decided to go for a walk, and see whether he could find Potter or not.

'Shall we come with you?' asked Crabbe.

Draco thought it over, if he came across anyone who didn't like him their shear size might help put them off. It might also put off Potter. Draco was undecided, and thought he would take them with him, but as he was opening his mouth he changed his mind.

'No.'

'See you later then.' Said Crabbe.

'Right, bye!' said Goyle.

Draco slipped out of the compartment and into the corridor. It was surprisingly empty. He passed a bushy-haired girl asking about a lost toad-honestly! Why couldn't people take better care of their possessions? He walked down to the other end of the train and then, right at the end, was that boy. Harry Potter beyond all doubt. And with him, was a Weasley. Draco felt a sudden urge to head back and get Crabbe and Goyle, but decided to put aside his worries and try being friendly.

He opened the door and walked in.

'Hello, how are you?' Draco opened.

'Can't you see we were talking?' said the redhead.

'Can't you see I was trying to be friendly?' Draco retorted, 'I'm Draco Malfoy by the way, nice to meet you.'

'Harry Potter, I think we've met.' Harry said curtly.

'Madame Malkin's wasn't it?'

'Yes, this is Ron Weasley, by the way.' Harry said gesturing to his companion .

'Nice to meet you.' Draco lied. He hated meeting anyone new, but his father had told him to be friends with Harry Potter no matter what, so he'd just have to grin and bear it.

'So what house do you think you'll be sorted into?' Draco asked, using a line given to him by his father.

'Gryffindor,' said Ron dejectedly,' All may family have been, all my family always will be.'

'I don't know, none of them sound too bad, but I'd rather not be in Slytherin, sounds a bit rubbish really' said Harry, with his usual vast display of tact. Draco was a bit put out by this, but didn't let it show, after all, he wasn't going to choose Slytherin, he just would get in, just as all of his family always had, just like Weasleys went to Gryffindor.

'What about you?' Harry asked.

'Oh, I don't really know, no-one does until they get there, after all, do they?'

'Well, no, I suppose not' said Ron.

'Do you reckon it's time to get changed yet, chaps?' asked Draco, after a long silence, in which the two boys he had joined ate their sweets.

'S'pose so.' said Ron.

Draco left to get his robes. He hadn't stuck his foot in it and made an enemy of Potter, but he also knew that they weren't friends. Not yet anyway.

'You were gone for a while' piped up Goyle as he got back to his compartment, 'what were you doing?'

'What I had to,' replied Draco, 'what I had to.'

Night had fallen by the time the train began to slow into Hogsmeade station. Great clouds of steam were emitted and the train came to an eventual halt. The three childhood friends bundled out of the train and onto the platform.

'Firs' years this way! Firs years this wa'!' Shouted the biggest man Draco had ever seen in his life.

He duly followed the great man down to a set of small, damp boats, into which he climbed gently, trying to avoid the damp ruining his robes.

'It's like coxless fours' said a boy with sandy hair three boats to his right. Draco wondered what a four was, and what it meant for one to be "coxless". A couple of young girls shrieked as the boats began to move forwards by themselves.

When they had gotten out at the other end, Draco felt much better, but another thought was beginning to weigh on his mind –how to be friends with Potter. There was no doubt in Draco's mind that Potter would go to Gryffindor, his family had done in the past, and he was friends with Weasley- no way anything else could happen. And he was destined for Slytherin. Bother! Draco knew that he wouldn't have a chance of making friends with Potter after the sorting, time for one last try.

'So, the great Harry Potter has finally come to Hogwarts,' Draco orated, 'and he would do well to note that some wizards are better than others.' I can help you there.' He added with a final flourish. Harry looked disgusted and quietly said something Draco didn't hear- all he knew was that he had just stuck his foot in it horribly. There was no chance now. Bother!

The new students were lead into the Great Hall by a very severe-looking witch, who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. She lead them to the front, and made them try on a battered old hat, one by one. She called them up to try it in alphabetical order. About halfway through she got to _'Malfoy, Draco'_

Draco walked up to the three legged stool, suddenly nervous, unsure of what he wanted.

'Ahh, a little Malfoy. It's a long while since I've had a chance to get on the head of one of you.' The hat began to speak inside Draco's head in a rich, plumy voice.

_So_ though Draco, _ what goes on now. Dad told me I'd sit on the stool and you'd yell out Slytherin._

'I did for him, and your grandfather Abraxus, and his father, and his. Well, you get the gist of it. The thing is, do you want Slytherin, you'd do well there, certainly, you'd do well almost anywhere in fact, well, maybe not Hufflepuff, perhaps.'

_I want to be friends with Potter._ Draco looked out calmly, catching the eye of a burly 6th year Hufflepuff, who seemed to be wondering what was going on underneath the hat.

'Friends with Potter, eh? Well, there's a lot of doubt as to where he's going too, if his ancestry is anything to go by. Not going to be Slytherin though, none of that family ever has been.

_Well,then, not Slytherin then._

'Not Slytherin? Very you're sure, better be...'

'GRYFFINDOR!' The hat yelled to the hall. No-one applauded. There wasn't even the polite applause that happened when someone got sorted into another house, just stony silence. Draco wandered over to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to the bushy haired girl from the train. Professor McGonagall was the first to get over the surprise and read out the next name on her list.

After an excellent feast, where Draco managed to avoid throwing up through nerves, the 5th year prefect lead them up to a portrait of a fat lady dressed in a garish pink. He said the password, and the first years rushed wide-eyed into their common room. Soon they were in their respective dorms, underneath the covers, nervously wondering what the next day would be like. In Draco's dorm they bade each other goodnight and went straight to bed. Oh well. He may not have made friends with Potter, he may have let down his dad by not being sorted into Slytherin, but he could perhaps make friends with Potter. With this lonely thought as his only solace, Draco fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The first week of lessons passed slowly, Draco had had some practise at home before he had left to come to school, but it seemed to make no odds. Like everyone else, he couldn't turn a match into a needle- he made it go pointy and silver, just like that Granger girl, but still he hadn't succeeded. His skill at charms didn't help him beat her by much either, when it came to levitating the feathers but in a way, despite her background, he grudgingly found himself admiring the dogged determination of the girl - clearly the only other person in the house, probably the year, to do any preparation before coming to Hogwarts. He started to become friends with her, each an outcast in their own house, he for being a natural Slytherin, her for being an insufferable know-it-all, in their loneliness they had come together. By the end of the first week, they started having breakfast together. Draco loved breakfast, he would always have the same thing; he started with a small bowl of porridge and a glass of cold water. Then he would have three rounds of toast with thick-cut orange marmalade, followed by a plate of sausages, bacon, fried potato, mushrooms and baked beans, all chased down by a fresh tumbler of pumpkin juice. It was at breakfast, one week in, that he received a parcel from home. It was huge, full of sweets and wrapped in a green paper. Attached to the parcel was a letter.

He greedily tore the letter open, hungry for any news from home.

_Dear Draco,_

_ I am very disappointed that you have not written to us yet, but here is a box of sweets for you to share around your dorm. How is everyone in Slytherin? I hope your studies are going well, remember to work hard, and don't waste your time. Did you manage to make friends with Harry Potter? If you need anything do not hesitate to write._

_Your loving mother,_

_xxx_

Draco dashed off a quick letter telling his parents what had happened. The next day another letter arrived.

_Draco,_

_ I am glad that you have made friends with Harry Potter, but not being sorted into Slytherin was a step too far. I regret to inform you that under the terms of your grandfather's will, I am obliged to disown you for not being sorted into Slytherin. Your fees for the year are paid but I cannot give you anything else. This will also be our last communication. Good luck._

_L. Malfoy esq._

_p.s. Your uncle Noctifer is expecting to hear from you._

Draco sat at the table, rigid in shock. Disowned. All that he knew. Gone. His future was gone.

What was he going to do?

Disowned. His future gone.

'You alright Draco?' asked Hermione.

'Yeah, fine. Just fine.' Said Draco, still very much in a state of shock. The act of speech broke Draco out of the stupor he had been in. What about this uncle of his- he didn't have an uncle. Noctifer was clearly a Malfoy name, but who was he? Draco swallowed and tried to blink back the moisture that had crept into his eyes. No matter what, no-one could know he was upset. It wasn't the done thing, showing emotions simply did not become him.

That day Draco didn't pay attention to what anyone said to him, not in lessons, nor when Hermione spoke to him. He was too preoccupied thinking about other things. The next day was the same and his marks began to suffer. As did his proto-friendship with Hermione who seemed to think that the was being stand-offish to her. At the end of the week, he decided to write a letter to this Noctifer person.

_Dear Uncle Noctifer,_

_ My father has told me that you are expecting to hear from me, so I am writing you this letter. I am sorry if this seems abrupt and unexpected but I have had some news recently that has rather hit me for six. I don't know what you know about the situation but any advise you can give would be welcome. I hope you are well._

_Your Nephew,_

_Draco. L. Malfoy_

The next day a vast bird flew into the great hall at breakfast. It was a mighty Falcon. In its noble claws it bore a black envelope. It circled anti-clockwise around the hall three times, before settling by Draco and giving him its letter. On delivering its burden, the great bird immediately launched itself into the air, and flew away. With all eyes in the hall turned on him, Draco took the letter and a final mouthful of sausage and left the hall.

Only when back in his dorm did he open the letter.

_Dear Draco,_

_ I am not surprised to receive your letter. Your father, my brother, wrote to me explaining your predicament and wondering whether I could help. I appreciate that you must be feeling very upset about being disowned, but let me assure you that you are not the first Malfoy to find themselves in this situation. I myself was disowned by old Abraxus when I was sorted into Ravenclaw._

_Your Father helped me out at the time, by paying my way through Hogwarts and whilst I have paid back the financial debt I have never been able to pay off the moral debt. I would therefore like to pay your fees for the rest of your time at Hogwarts and offer you a home for the summer. I appreciate that you cannot be happy about this turn of events, but I promise I will do whatever I can to make this time easier for you. _

_I would urge you to maintain and make friendships- you will need them in the coming time. If you have any concerns that a simple letter to me cannot solve, talk to Minerva McGonagall about what is going on. She is certainly very strict, with no time for troublemakers, but when the bludger hits the man there is no-one at Hogwarts I'd trust more than her. I don't know whether you wish to stay at school for the holidays or not, but let me know of your intentions. _

_Although it has given me the opportunity to write to you, I must confess I am heartily sorry to hear that you were disowned. Now don't forget- behave like a Malfoy. Even if you are no longer heir to the estate, you still bear the name. Be true to your upbringing and do not let anyone ever see you upset. _

_Do this and everything will work out. _

_Write if you need anything,_

_Noctifer Malfoy_

Draco was soon back to his previous academic standard as he resumed his lessons in earnest. He still however had no real friends. Hermione he had alienated with his behaviour, and since he didn't know her well enough to tell her why he had been so withdrawn recently, there was no way they could carry on as before. He still felt distant from his dorm mates, with whom he felt he had little in common. They were simply not brought up like he was, by parents who were loving but distant, ever keen to enforce upon him the lessons of how to behave. For Draco, childhood had ended early, but adulthood was still a long way off. The only one of them who had, like Draco, known what it was to go to be hungry was Harry, who was still didn't seem to like him that much, perhaps because he appeared slightly to much like that know-it-all Granger, who none of the boys particularly cared for.

He was lying in bed awake late one night, when he heard Ron and Harry come into the dorm

'What're they doing? Keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?' he heard Ron say.

He didn't find out what it was though, because Harry shushed Ron on the grounds that everyone else was asleep, and they didn't want to wake them.

Nothing particularly eventful happened until Halloween, although Draco did almost drop his Telescope off of the astronomy tower once. They were gathered for the Halloween feast and thoroughly enjoying themselves. The Main course had been excellent, even by Hogwarts' standards and they were now tucking into a splendid desert. Suddenly, turbaned Professor Quirell rushed in.

'Troll!' He shouted fearfully, 'Troll, in the dungeon! Thought you ought to know...' and collapsed in a dead faint. Dumbledore eventually managed to calm the panicked student body and he ordered the prefects to take everyone back to the common room, while the teachers searched the castle.

Draco noticed that Hermione wasn't there.

'Hey, you two.' He asked harry and Ron, 'have you seen Hermione?'

'I heard one of the Patil's saying she was crying in a bathroom, who cares?'

'She doesn't know about the troll.'

'So?' said Ron.

'Yeah you're right', said Harry, when he saw the astonished expression on Draco's face at thi latest outburst from Ron,' we've got to find her.'

They slipped away from the column of Gryffindors and headed to the nearest girl's loo. Just as they were rounding the corner, they saw the troll. It headed into a small side chamber. With a flash of triumph, Ron dashed at the door, pulled it to and turned the key in the lock. The three were congratulating themselves, when they heard the most terrible sound they could have heard at that moment. A girl's scream.

Instantly their mouths dropped. Hermione! They immediately turned and ran back to the door. In their blind panic they fumbled with the key. They heard the smashing of wood, as the troll inside smashed several of the cubicles. Another scream. Hermione was at least still alive. Finally they got the door open. They rushed in to see Hermione scrunched up in the corner, desperately trying to avoid the troll. It raised its club and brought it crashing down, right on top of where Hermione had been but a moment before. The boys tried to think of any troll-beating curses Professor Quirell had mentioned in his lessons, but they couldn't think of any - not that any had been mentioned anyway. Instead they decided to try and knock it out, throwing splinters of oak cubicle at the tiny head of the massive creature. Now, trolls have hide as thick as they are, so there was no way that this was going to do anything, bullets from an elephant gun have been known to bounce of trolls without raising so much as a bruise.

'Oi! Pea brain!' Ron shouted. Now, the troll hadn't even noticed the bits of wood, but it did notice the shouting. Slowly it turned.

'Great, now it's after us!' yelled Draco. The troll plunged at them. They ducked and the great ashen club went sailing over their heads. Hermione had begun to start miming casting Wingardium Leviosa at them. Draco caught sight of this and was just starting to figure out what she meant, when WHUMPH! The troll's club caught him smack bang in the middle of the ribs, and he went flying across the room and into the wall.

Ron had also seen Hermione miming and had soon seized the troll's own club from his hand, just as he was about to brain a Harry, who had just been picked up off of the troll's back, having just stuck his wand up the troll's nose, for a reason which afterwards he would never satisfactorily be able to remember.

With a deft movement of his wrist, Ron knocked the troll out with his own club. The great hulking body of the troll came crashing down, raising a cloud of fine dust and cracking the tiles of the bathroom floor.

The noise of that soon attracted the attention of the teachers, who arrived to find Harry and Ron bent over Draco, while Hermione was in tears in the corner.

'What's going on here?' asked Professor McGonagall, whose lips were white with fury.

Harry and Ron looked guiltily at each other. They were about to speak when

'It's my fault, Professor McGonagall. I've read about trolls and thought I could handle it. I'd be dead by now if these three hadn't found me.'

McGonagall suddenly noticed Draco. Even years later, all three Gryffindors would describe this as the scariest moment of their lives.

McGonagall had soon gotten Professors Snape and Quirell to take Draco to the hospital wing, before rounding on the other Gryffindors. Hermione lost thirty points, Harry, Ron and Draco each gained ten for beating the troll, but Harry and Ron lost a further five for not running to Madame Pomfrey as soon as they could for help.

Fifteen minutes into this tirade, Professor Snape reappeared.

'Minerva, Poppy says he'll live. Three broken ribs on each side and a nasty concussion. Damn close though.'

The three Gryffindors returned to bed, feeling bad about Draco. But they were now friends. There are some things that a group of people cannot go through together without become firm friends and knocking out a full grown mountain troll is one of them.


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't until after Gryffindor had been steamrollered by Slytherin in their first quidditch match of the new season that Draco got out of the hospital wing. He had left in the early evening, having had dinner in the hospital wing and gone straight back to Gryffindor tower. He had been expecting to slip through the portrait hole, head upstairs and crash out by himself in the dorm.

Draco walked up to the portrait hole and said the password. He stepped over the threshold and into the room he'd never thought he'd see again. He ran up the stairs and into the dorm.

'... Philosopher's Stone.' He heard Harry say as he burst through the door. Both Harry and Ron jumped and looked incredibly shifty, as if they had been talking about something they weren't supposed to know about.

Draco sat down heavily on the edge of his bed.

'Hi guys.'

'Hi Draco.' They said, considerably more friendlily than they ever had before. 'Do you know anything about the Philosopher's stone?' carried on Harry, 'just you seem like the sort of boy who would.'

'Never heard of..., philosopher's stone you say? As in turns base metals into gold and makes you live forever kind of thing?'

'Could be. Something to do with a Nicholas Flamel according to what we weaselled out of Hagrid.'

'Don't know about that, but yeah , I've heard a little about it. Why do you ask?'

'Well, you remember the Gringotts' robbery?' Harry looked about furtively, 'well, that day I was in London getting my stuff- you remember?- well, at any rate I didn't know about my parent's money or any of that stuff that was in Gringotts, so Hagrid took me there. WE got out some money to pay for my school stuff, but he also stopped off at another vault, and removed a small package. tHis vault was number 713 and that vault..'

'Don't tell me, that was the one that...'

'was broken into' Harry completed Draco's sentence for him, as he had stopped, mouth hanging open. Despite Draco pulling off an exquisite impression of a trout, Harry continued his story.

'Yes, that was the vault, and when Hagrid took out this parcel, a tiny, small thing, he saidhe'd appreciate it if I didn't mention this to anybody, Hogwarts' business, top secret. Another thing, the third floor corridor, well that's not been out of bounds before this year'

'I asked Percy about it' interjected Ron.

'. Now, you were out cold and didn't notice, but when the teachers came to the bathroom after we knocked out the troll, Snape had a limp.'

'A man had a limp, so what?' retorted Draco.

' The point is I oversaw him getting it tied up by Filch in the staff room, it was bloody, and well, there's a great big three headed dog in the third floor corridor.'

'A Cerberus? But they're really rare. And what are they doing keeping a thing like that locked up in a school? '

'Exactly what I said' cut in Ron.

'But why's Snape after it?'

'Well, isn't it obvious, you said it yourself, never ending gold and eternal life- who wouldn't want that!'

'You've got a point.'

'Well, we've been talking to Hermione about it and she's been'

But quite what Hermione had been doing with them, Draco wouldn't find out. At that moment the rest of the boys came hurrying into their dorm with an irate Percy Weasley behind them.

'Didn't you hear what I said? Half an hour ago I said it was bed-time for first years. Now its way past then. . !' Yelled Percy.

Harry, Ron and Draco dived under their respective covers and pretended to be asleep, hoping Percy wouldn't notice that wasn't what they'd been doing for the last half hour.

The next half of term passed very quickly. Draco had to work twice as hard to catch up on what he'd missed, for as good as doing the reading and all of the homeworks is, there is nothing quite like actually being in a lesson for learning every last little detail. Not for no reason then, was Draco glad when Christmas came, even if he would have to spend it at Hogwarts. He would at least have some company, since Ron and Harry were staying at school too.

Hermione, who had been badgering him since he had gotten out of the hospital wing to help them research Nicholas Flamel was leaving, which, whilst slightly sad, would bring a welcome break from her incessant nagging about it. Nonetheless, she'd left them with strict instructions to do some more research, preferably in the restricted section. It was a week until Christams, and finally the hustle and bustle of school life had exchanged for the holiday lull. Hagrid had brought in twelve trees from the forbidden forest and Professor Flitwick had decorated them with baubles and tinsel and lights, which were little fairy's trapped in jam jars. The three boys had sat in the great hall watching this for at least an hour before they finally got bored and went outside to have a snowball fight. They each had until lunch to build themselves whatever fortifications they wanted, by whatever means they had at their disposal. After an excellent lunch of cold ham, fried eggs, chips and beans, accompanied with liberal lashings of brown sauce and tomato ketchup, they went back outside, well wrapped up. They walked out through the transfiguration quad and then out past the greenhouses to the grounds outside. Once each had reached their respective snow forts, Harry shouted

'Ready, Set, GO!'

And the fight began. Harry and Ron started by ganging up on Draco. Draco had anticipated this and hid in his fort, biding his time, whilst their snowballs bounced off its mighty exterior. Nor was this time spent idly; he spent his time carving more frigid ammunition from the snow beneath his feet, preparing for his inevitable counter attack. When the dull thud of the snowballs against the wall of snow had died down , he cautiously stuck his head up above the parapet. Then, Down! A snowball came sailing past where his head had been but a couple of moments before. It was time. After blindly launching a handful of snowballs over his wall, Draco stuck his head over and then aimed a snowball each at Harry and Ron. Two high pitched wails told him he had found his target and he laughed, just for long enough for Harry to throw a snowball at him smack! in the middle of his face. Now Draco's adrenaline was up, and he turned into a human snowball gun, lobbing balls at the other two until he had no balls left to throw. After that, he calmed down slightly, and took cover to make more balls, but there wasn't much snow left inside his snow-fort. He'd have to go outside if he wanted to make more. He'd have to go outside, where they could attack him. He ventured out the back, and heard the sound of a snowball hitting someone. Harry and Ron had finally changed this from a two on one to every man for himself- about time too! - thought Draco.

The fight carried on like this until the bells, mounted high up in the great gothic bell towers called out 4 o'clock. At this point it was pretty much pitch black outside, so the boys headed in and went to bed, tired but with a warm, rosy glow in their cheeks from the exercise.

The next day dawned. The boys eventually got out of their four-posters and headed down for breakfast. A glimpse of the fireplace in Gryffindor common room suddenly reminded Draco of home, a home that had been taken away from him and a home he longed to return to. He felt slightly glum as they pounded down the stairs, taking two at a time before jumping the bottom four on every flight of stairs, as they always did. They burst into the great hall. There, Draco's thoughts were distracted from his self-pity by the smell of breakfast. Hurrying to Gryffindor table, they greedily tucked in. Fat, sizzling pork sausages, lightly toasted bread with marmalade, everything was there.

Draco started with a bowl of porridge, one spoonful of sugar, a handful of raisins and. Oh! That was good. After the porridge, Draco moved onto his cooked breakfast. Back bacon, with a thin layer of fat around the edges, still white and juicy, the sausages, cooked to within a nuance of perfection, three slices of toast, thickly spread with glorious marmalade, two poached eggs, with runny yolks, cooked plum tomatoes, fried mushrooms , brown sauce and

'Black Pudding!' Draco exclaimed, spotting his favourite breakfast treat on the platter in front of him. There was nothing quite like the unique flavour and texture of a good black pudding, Draco decided as he tucked into his breakfast. Nothing like it at all. Some people liked bacon best, Draco knew, but he felt that they didn't know what they were on about.

After breakfast Draco felt much better, his early black thoughts had been wiped clean away in a stream of breakfast. They spent the day in the library looking for references to Nicholas Flamel, before giving back and heading back to the common room for a quick chess tournament in front of the fire with Fred, George and Percy until it was bedtime.

The next morning they were woken up by Ron yelling something about Christmas. He had a large stack of parcels at the foot of his bed, Harry had five or six. Draco had two. This was something of a come-down from previous years, but to be honest, Draco was surprised to get that many. One proclaimed itself to be from uncle Noctifer, It was a very thick, and by the looks of things, boring, book. Gilded on one leathery cover was the book's title:

_1001 ways to prevent the spread of dry rot in early thirteenth century triforia._

There was also a short note.

_Draco, _

_Sorry I can't have you over for crimbo, but the ministry's having difficulties processing paperwork viz me adopting you. Anyway, I hope this proves useful._

_Yours,_

_Noctifer Malfoy._

Useful? What did he mean? Dry rot in thirteenth century triforia? Is that even English? Draco threw the book aside, irritated that the one gift he got from his family would be so bloody useless. The front cover flopped open, to reveal a small cut-out. Inside were a vast collection of Bertie Botts' beans, Drooble's gum and, best of all in Draco's mind, a small, but perfectly serviceable set of ebony and sandalwood chessmen as well as a matching board. Draco's face burst into a grin and he finally noticed the other note.

_Ha! Thought I bought you a book on dry rot for Christmas? The book might be useful for sneaking stuff about in once you've finished with it. Even if it isn't now- it will be later._

_Merry Christmas._

_N_

Having read the note, Draco started to look at his other package. Wrapped up in a silvery paper, no note on the outside. He tore it open, a small piece of paper fluttered out.

_I am sorry about the situation with your parents, _

_Merry Christmas_

In a strange, loopy handwriting that Draco didn't recognise. Inside there was an antique collection of pocket-sized textbooks, one each on charms, transfiguration, potions and defensive magics. Who could have sent them?

Over on the other side of the room, Ron gave out a sudden yell and Draco was dragged from his self-absorbed state

'That's an invisibility cloak that is!-They're incredibly rare!'

Draco's mouth dropped- who would've sent Harry an invisibility cloak?

'There's a note too "_This belonged to your father, now it is time it was returned to you." _That's funny- no name, who'd send you something like this and not give their name?'

None of them had any idea, but Draco thought it funny that they had given so many mystery gifts to the first year Gryffindor dorm that year – the others didn't know who had sent him the textbooks – and he felt that something peculiar was going on. Invisibility cloaks? Who had them spare to give away? A good cloak could cost more than the entirety of the stock of Quality Quidditch Supplies when they had a new broom in. It was ludicrous. But Draco's thoughts were interrupted, as was usual, by a quick trip downstairs for the greatest of meals, breakfast.


	4. Chapter 4

The three boys had a relaxing Christmas, but before they knew it the rest of the school had returned. With the rest of the student body came the rain. The raindrops thudded hard against the slates and tiles of Hogwarts. In Gryffindor Tower the rain sounded akin to hail on a tin roof. With the rain came the wind which howled through the chimneypots and around the towers, like a dog chasing its own tail. Very soon the outcrops of snow which had remained melted and before long the castle grounds were a bog that none of the students could cross without brooms. Mr Filch was particularly annoyed by this, complaining viciously about all the extra work he had to do mopping up the mud. But not even a ticking off from Filch for dragging mud into the castle could compare to the talking to the boys got from Hermione for failing to get access- or event trying to get access to the restricted section.

'How are we supposed to find out more about the stone, if you aren't prepared to put in the hours and do the hard work on research?'

'But why do we want to know more about the stone 'Mionee.' Ron whinged,' We _already_ know what it does.'

'Because it never hurts to know everything about something. Besides, we don't _know_ it actually is the stone. All we know is that it's a small thing Harry saw taken from Gringotts. We don't know what protections that have been put around it, let alone what protections it has inbuilt! You can never know too much!'Hermione retorted, somewhat waspishly.

When they told her about the invisibility cloak, Hermione's jaw had dropped. She was disappointed that they hadn't thought of using it to get into the restricted section and said so. In the end, the only way the boys could get her to stop talking about it was to mention that it was time for potions.

Realising they were running late, the foursome ran down to the dungeons, jumping over trick steps, taking short-cuts, by now long-learnt and hurrying. None of them wanted to be late for Snape.

They ran into the dungeon just in time, taking the last four seats, right at the front of the classroom, next to Snape's desk. Seconds later, Snape swept in, his black robes billowing out behind him. The Christmas break had seen him lost none of his menacing and imposing nature. Once more he began the term's lessons with a sharp talk to the class.

'I see you have all managed to return to Hogwarts this term and I should like to offer you my congratulations on this amazing achievement.' Snape said, his voice dripping with disdain. ' This term we shall be studying a couple of basic memory potions. Now these are some of the most dangerous potions you will come across this year, since if they go wrong you can lose your memory of everything that has ever happened in your life. Not,' Snape said, looking pointedly at Neville, 'that some of you actually need a potion to do that. Memory potions are a large group, which are closely related to love potions, as they all contain mind-altering substances. The most important ingredients in memory potions are waters from the river Lethe for potions which require removal of memory and lilac blossom for those which require its preservation. Lethe water is the most dangerous thing you will deal with this year. It is the prime ingredient in the forgetfulness potion which we shall be making today. Now, this is a very simple potion to make, so I dare say that some of you may be able to manage it if you're lucky. You start by grinding up some porcupine quills, and dissolving these in water. Ordinary water, that is.'

'Are you paying attention, Mr Malfoy?' Snape suddenly bellowed.

'Yes, sir.' Draco replied immediately. He wasn't' scared of Snape. Well, maybe a little bit.

'Well if you were paying attention Mr Malfoy you will be able to tell me why we grind the porcupine quills before adding them to the water.'

'You didn't say anything about that, sir'

'Ten points from Gryffindor for not paying attention Mr Malfoy, I clearly stated last term that we grind porcupine quills, so that the water may penetrate all parts of the quill so that it may be added safely to heat. A further ten points for lying when you told me you were paying attention Mr Malfoy.'

'Now, after we add the quills to the water, you put it on a low heat and leave it to start simmering, and then you add in flobberworm jelly to thicken it. Into this you add a couple of drops of Lethe water, making care not to spill any on yourself. Now stir three times clockwise, three time anticlockwise, then a further three clockwise turns. Now leave it to simmer. It should turn a shade of russet. Then add four finely diced daisy roots and a grated rat's tail. It will now turn a violent orange and you must bring it to the boil immediately. If you do this the colour will change again to a deep pink. Cool it and you have successfully brewed a forgetfulness potion. Does anyone have any questions? No? Good. Then you may start.'

The potion making was uneventful, Harry was partnered with Ron, Draco with Hermione. They were progressing well and both pairs had achieved the russet stage, when a vast explosion filled the room.

'LONGBOTTOM!' Snape yelled, shaking his fist,' Can you do nothing right? I explicitly said to stir clockwise then anticlockwise then clockwise. Did you just stir clockwise?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Idiot boy! Why did you do that?'

'I forgot, sir.'

'You forgot. How apposite. Since you no longer have enough time to redo your potion, you may as well go back to your dormitory. I will expect three feet of parchment on my desk describing appropriate stirring methods for safe brewing of potions by Monday.

The rest of the class proved uneventful, with Harry and Ron and Draco and Hermione successfully managing to brew the potion. Snape looked at them disapprovingly before giving them their marks. They all got 'Acceptable'.

The next week they didn't have potions, since the dungeons had flooded from the rain, which hadn't abated since the start of term. Eventually, however it did stop. The sun came out and the muddy quagmire outside began to form a hard crust. Harry and Ron decided it was time to introduce Draco to the delights of Hagrid's cooking. A note had come through this morning inviting them down. It had mentioned the words "Rock cakes", two words capable of sending fear through the heart of Godric Gryffindor himself, when attached to an invitation from Hagrid.

The four were walking down, Draco and Hermione in front, Ron and Harry behind.

'You'll love his rock-cakes, Draco.'

'Yeah, best things I've ever had.'

Ron and Harry struggled not to start laughing, as they played what they were sure was the greatest prank they had ever played on Draco – it would be complete only when he bit into one of Hagrid's rock-cakes though.

'Hello there you three and a new face too! Always nice to 'ave company. Come in! Come in!' Hagrid waved them inside.

'Nice to be able to get down again to see you, Hagrid. Have any problems with the rain?' Draco noticed that Hagrids eye's darted to a something in the corner, covered with a large tarpaulin. He wondered what was under it.

'Anyway,' Harry continued,' this is Draco, he's in our dorm.'

'Nice t' meet you.' Said Hagrid, offering Draco his hand. Draco took it and shook it.

'Nice to meet you too.'

The conversation revolved around the usual topics, Quidditch, lessons, the weather until eventually, Hagrid mentioned that he'd not been able to bake the promised rock-cakes.

'Oh. Why's that?' asked Ron, disappointed that the poorly-planned prank had fallen at the first hurdle.

'I've been using my stove for other things. Shouldn't have said tha'. Should not have said tha' ' said Hagrid. Draco felt that the suspicious tarpaulin and the suspicious non-use of stove were somehow related. He got up, and subtly sidled over to the old waxed cloth. Lifting it up, he saw a strange thing underneath. Everyone fell silent and it was Ron who spoke first.

'Hagrid,' he said, slightly nervously, 'is that what I think it is? Is that a dragon's egg?'

'Migh' be'

'Hagrid' interjected Hermione, aren't they , well. Illegal?'

'Tha's only to stop people who don' know wha' they're doin' from getting hur'.' Replied Hagrid at length.

At that moment, they heard a quick tap,tap,tap. The egg shell was breaking from the inside. At that moment, they were all witness to the first home birth of a Dragon in the best part of a century.

'Hagrid' Said Draco,' That's a dragon.'

'An' he knows his Mummy!' Hagrid replied, missing Draco's tone for fawning over the baby dragon. 'I think I'll call him Norbert.'

'But Hagrid, your house is made of wood. That's a dragon. Dragon's breathe fire.'

For the rest of the evening, they tried to persuade Hagrid to get rid of the dragon, but to no avail.

The next few weeks saw the four visit Hagrid's hut quite regularly, each time trying to persuade him to get rid of the dragon.

'My brother in Romania works with dragons, Hagrid, he could look after Norbert.'

'But Norbert might get lonely, homesick- what if the other dragons are mean to 'im?'

After this notable exchange, they headed solemnly back to the castle. In the entrance hall, were two looming shadows. They stepped through the doors, and started to go up the stairs. The shadows moved.

'Oi! Gryff Scum! Wot you doin' up this late?' It was Crabbe and, presumably, Goyle. They turned. Ron had to swerve to one side, to avoid a mysterious golden spell which just whistled past his left ear.

A fight began. Nothing particularly spectacular, since the first years didn't know how to cast any really damaging spells, but they did know enough spells to cause some mild discomfort. They were so busy casting and avoiding the spells, that they didn't notice when a small, furry thing crept off around the corner.

Five minutes later, and the fight came to a sudden halt. Crabbe and Goyle stopped first looking terrified. Then spells from each of the four hit them. Only then did they slowly turn, to discover none other than Professor McGonagall standing behind them. Their hearts dropped into their toes. McGonagall. And she was fuming.

'In all my years at Hogwarts,' she shouted,' I have never seen such behaviour. Up past curfew! Fighting in the entrance hall! I'm surprised at you. 50 points from each of you and detention!'

They returned to their dorms, feeling utterly miserable.

The next morning was even worse. A couple of first years had lost all of Gryffindor's points. 200 points overnight! What few friends they had in the house turned on them. Being thus ostracised however did serve to bring them closer together, so it was as close friends that the four Gryffindors went to serve their detention with Hagrid.

'Righ' you lot. WE've got a dangerous job to do today. Well be going in there.'

'What!' exclaimed Draco, 'The Forbidden forest? But students aren't allowed. The clue's sort of in the name.'

'Tha's where we're goin'. If you do sommat wrong at Hogwarts, you do something useful. Lines! Ha! What good did that ever do anyone?!'

Hagrid explained how he'd found unicorn blood scattered throughout the forest. Tonight they would be trying to find it.

'Righ'. Now. We'll split up into two group. Harry, you and Malfoy go with Fang. I'll be with Ron and Hermione. If you find it send up green sparks. If you need help send up red ones. Let's go then.'

They set off into the forest as a large group and soon split up at a fork in one of the many winding paths that went through the middle of the trees. Harry and Draco took the path to the left, which Draco fancied to be less taken than the other.

They walked about the forest for a while, jumping when they stepped on old, dry twigs, looking nervously about when they heard the rustle of leaves in the trees. Eventually they came to a small clearing. In the centre of the clearing lay a large, silvery-white body and over the body stooped a man in a dark black cloak. Fang scarpered.

Harry pulled Draco to the ground. They fell noisily, but the hooded figure didn't look up.

'What do we do?' whispered Draco, 'something tells me sending up sparks isn't a good idea.'

'Yeah, you're right. We've got to find Hagrid somehow. But how do we lead them back here?'

'I don't think I'd remember the way back anyway.'

'Me neither.'

'Merlin! What're we supposed to do?'

'Send up sparks and run away?'

'Yeah. Run away. Even if we can run faster than that thing- unlikely if it took down a unicorn- that is such a brave thing to do. I didn't want to be in Gryffindor. But since I'm here I may as well do my best to fit in.'

'You didn't want to be in Gryffindor?'

'No. But I don't want to talk about it.'

'Then why bring it up if you don't want to. Oh! Never mind.'

'Well, I wanted to be in Slytherin like my father.'

'I see.'

'But. LOOK OUT! HE'S SPOTTED US!' Draco screamed as the menacing black shadow began to drift towards them, seemingly without legs. Silvery unicorn bloo d could be seen glistening beneath the foul hood.

'RUN!' yelled Draco as he took flight. They darted between the trees, stumbling over the occasional roots until suddenly Harry tripped up and fell. The black shadow swept down on him, and as Draco's mind descended into sheer panic, he had the presence of mind to send up red sparks.

Hagrid came running, with Ron and Hermione panting behind to keep up. Whilst half-giants seem often to be slow and lumbering people, they are quite capable of a remarkable turn of speed when required. It's probably the long legs.

They don't move quietly however at such speeds and the noise of Hagrid's approach, which rather reminded the boys of the Hogwarts express, scared off the man in the black hood.

'Wha' on earth is goin' on here then? Who was tha'?'

'No idea,' said Harry, 'But' He shuddered, unable to complete his sentence.

After Draco had led Hagrid to the dead unicorn, they returned to the castle. That night they slept soundly, despite a strange cloaked figure floating through their dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

As the end of the Easter term approached, Draco was eagerly anticipating the end of the quidditch season. Whilst himself a keen player of the sport, he was an even keener player of Hogwart's summer sport, cricket. So, after the summer term had begun, Draco had dragged Harry and Ron out to their first nets sessions. Hermione felt they ought to be studying for their exams and had refused to come along.

Ron and Harry weren't quite sure of what to make of it all. The strange nets, the three vertical stumps with the horizontal bails across the top all baffled the two other boys, but not Draco. No. He had grown up playing cricket for the village team. His father had always told him that it was good for learning proper temperament. Nervously Draco lined up to bowl at the burly 6th year padded up in the nets. He came in. Right foot down, left foot around, arm straight over the top. Release the ball and... The 6th year's middle stump went flying down the pitch and into the back of the net.

'Bloody Hell!' exclaimed the 6th year. 'That's the fastest ball I've ever seen!' as he stamped down the net. The next batsman in nervously adjusted his box and pads before facing up to the bowling attack. The balls came down the net one at a time. The first was bowled by Harry. It went wide of the off stump at the batsman sent it flying out into the field beyond. As Harry trotted off to fetch it, Ron came into bowl. It was much faster than Harry's. It was however even further off the mark. As it smashed into the post holding up one end of the net Ron went red and everyone started to laugh.

Draco did his best to stifle back the laughter. Eventually the gales of laughter stopped and the batsman looked ready for another bowler to try and dislodge him. Several older Gryffindors tried and then it was Draco's turn again. He started his run up, ran in, bowled the ball and the ball clipped the bail. The bail wobbled. For one awful moment Draco thought it wouldn't fall. For what seemed like an eternity it wobbled. It fell. The batsman was out. The next man went in and Draco went to pad up. He opened up the cricket bag. Pulled out the bat, the two leg pads, the helmet and what was, in Draco's view, the most important piece of protective equipment, the box. Soon after he had gotten his pads on, Harry came into bowl. Somehow he managed to get the ball on target. The previous man in the nets was out. Draco was ready, time to go in for the first practise of the summer. He marched down the wicket and took his guard in front of the stumps. The first bowler came in to bowl a ball at him. Draco decided to take a bit of time to play himself in. He waited for the first ball to come down. Now. Foot to the pitch of the ball. Keep the left elbow high. Play the ball into the ground. There we go, first ball dealt with. Next Ron was up to bowl. This time, he managed ot get the ball in the net, although it was going marginally slower than some of his previous deliveries. Draco saw that the ball was going wide of his off stump and decided to send Ron off on a quick jog. Up, Up and the ball went sailing out of the net and into the next field. Harry came into bowl. This next ball was a bit slower, as one of the 5th years was trying to teach Harry how to bowl spin. What came out of Harry's hand though, was not a ball spinning rapidly, but a slow paced ball of easy length- a full toss! There was no way Draco was going to miss this one. He came down the wicket, took a swing and the ball went flying off into the distance. Draco felt like this session was going to go well.

Later that day, when they had gotten Filch to bowl Draco out – he was the leading wicket taker in the annual Hogmeade - Godric's Hollow match – they all trudged back to the castle.

'So, Ron,' asked Hermione at dinner, 'What do you think of cricket?'

'Bloody hard work!' he replied, 'particularly when Draco's batting or bowling. I reckon he's got a good shot of making the house team.'

Harry didn't like cricket as much as quidditch, but he said he would carry on going to training. He'd quite enjoyed the bowling thing, even if he did need a lot more practise with the bat.

As such the four didn't see much of each other socially, Ron and Hermione studied in the library, Harry and Draco played cricket whenever they could, between the occasional break for arrangement carried on until the exams. They transfigured snuff-boxes, made pineapples dance and completed what seemed like endless written papers. By the end even Hermione's wrist was aching from writing too much.

It was not long after exams had finished, that a mysterious owl arrived at Gryffindor tower, bearing a letter for Draco.

_Dear Draco,_

_I hope you are well. I am fine. Sorry I have not written for a while, I have been in Morocco on business for the last couple of months and have discovered that it is illegal to own an owl here. _

_Anyway, have finally gotten home- a relief- so am dashing this off quick before heading to bed. I am sure you know how tiring international travel can be. _

_By now I suppose that you have finished all of your exams. Enjoy the break! But don't be too lazy, there are a lot of opportunities at Hogwarts that get missed like that. _

_At any rate – Good News! The ministry has finished doing the paperwork – you can come and stay with me during the holidays. _

_If anything interesting is happening send me a letter, but I dare say I shall see you at platform 9 __¾ __come the end of term._

_If you need anything, let me know, but now I'm off to bed._

_Yours,_

_Uncle N._

Draco was somewhat surprised about the letter – after all, his uncle hadn't sent him anything in months. Now at least, there was a reason why he hadn't heard from his uncle. Harry leapt from his seat by the fireplace – there was no fire, since the weather was far too hot- and declared he was going to visit Hagrid.

Draco, Ron and Hermione quickly packed up their stuffed and ran after Harry. Something was up and they wanted to know what.

When they arrived Harry asked Hagrid about how he had gotten Norbert.

'Well,' said Hagrid, with tears welling in his eyes- he'd only just been, persuaded, by Dumbledore to send the Dragon to Romania - ' I got talkin' to this fellow down in the pub. Said he had a dragon's egg on him. Wanted to know tha' I could look after it o' course. Told him after Fluffy, I said, after Fluffy a dragon'd be easy.'

'And did he seem interested in ?'

'Course! How often do you meet a three headed dog? Even if you are inta tha' sort of thing. Told him, the trick with any animal is to know how to calm him. Take Fluffy, play him a piece o' music and he'll drop straight off to sleep.' For a moment Hagrid's face looked placid. Then it was gripped by light panic.

'Now. I oughtn't to 'ave told anyone tha', so jus' you four forget about it. That dog is none of your concern!'

Harry dropped the subject and started to talk to Hagrid about how the pitches were going to be prepared for the upcoming inter-house cricket matches. Hagrid seemed to feel that he shouldn't be drawn into answering this one, so they finished their tea and left, heading back to the castle.

They went straight to Professor McGonagall, who told them that they couldn't see Professor Dumbledore. Harry mentioned the stone. McGonagall seemed upset by the mention, but told them they couldn't see Dumbledore since he had gone off to the ministry of magic after receiving an urgent owl.

They decided that they would have to take matters into their own hands and after a couple of abortive attempts to head off their prime suspect, Professor Snape, they decided that he couldn't try anything during daylight. That night therefore, they decided to sneak off, and go through the trapdoor under Fluffy themselves.


	6. Chapter 6

They crept out of the common room without seeing anyone. Putting on Harry's old invisibility cloak, they crept along through the empty corridors, jumping when they caught sight of the suits of armour that were liberally distributed throughout the castle. After a good half hour, they found themselves at the entrance to the third floor corridor.

'Right, we're going in.'

'After you, Harry.' replied Draco.

Harry cast Alohomora and opened the door. They found themselves in a long corridor. Draco looked about, wide eyed and nervous –where was the dog?

They followed the corridor around a slight bend, and there was another door. It was ajar. Inside was a terrible rasping sound, of three heads snoring simultaneously, with the twinkling of a harp playing a melody over the top. They crept in and timidly opened the trapdoor. Then they heard, or rather didn't hear, the last thing they wanted to hear. The harp stopped playing.

'What do we do now?'

'Only one thing we can do – jump!'

And so they jumped. They fell for what felt like an eternity, which came to a sudden halt when they landed on a soft, rubbery thing. After a couple of seconds, Ron realised it was a plant.

'Hah! Lucky this plant thing's here really.'

'Lucky!' shrieked Hermione, 'have you looked at yourself recently?! You're covered in it!'

'What?!' yelled Draco. 'I know what this is, it's devil's snare!'

'Great, now what do we do?'

'Well, what was it professor Sprout said about devil's snare?' said Hermione, mainly to herself. 'Ahh! Got it! Devil's snare. Devil's snare –it's deadly fun but will wilt in the sun.'

'So light a fire!' yelped Harry.

'But I've not got any matches!'

'ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?' Bellowed Ron.

'Oh!' exclaimed Draco as he and Hermione whipped out their wands and started to create small fire. The plant soon started to loosen its grip, trying hopelessly to get away from the terrible flames and before long they were free.

They hurried away before the plant changed its mind and found themselves in the next chamber. Inside there were four old broomsticks. The door leading out was locked.

'What's that fluttering sound?' asked Draco, looking up.

'Birds!' said Ron.

'No, not birds,' said Harry, 'keys!'

'What, we're supposed to catch them?'

'There are four broomsticks, why not try? It'd be like being a seeker.'

They mounted the brooms and kicked off from the ground. Instantly the sedately flying keys accelerated, until they were buzzing around like a swarm of oversized bees. Draco and Harry were the most confident on their brooms- Hermione hated flying and Ron nearly crashed into a wall on take-off. Together the two who could fly well searched for they key they had identified as a likely candidate from the ground. Suddenly Harry spotted it and entered a dive.

'Watch out!' screamed Hermione. She thought he was going to crash. To be honest, so did Draco. At the bottom of the dive, Harry caught the key and pulled up, avoiding the stone floor by mere inches.

'Wow Harry! Nice catch!' Yelled Ron.

Draco thought that Harry should try out for Gryffindor seeker next year. He mentioned it.

'Nah, how good could I be- I've never even played quidditch,'

'That doesn't matter, Harry, you're a natural. There's not five seekers in the league who could pull of a dive like that, less if you allow for the fact you were using that cronky old thing.'

'Guys, as fascinating as house quidditch is, don't you think we should get a move on?' asked Hermione. Harry through Hermione the key and she unlocked the door. As she did so, the keys swarmed aggressively, and made to attack. Moments after Hermione had unlocked the door, the three boys came rushing through it, still on their brooms. She slammed it shut and they heard the sound of metal keys banging into the solid oak door.

They walked on through the semi-darkness that surrounded them. They walked through the poorly dusted, low corridors, which any full-size man would have to stoop in. They walked under an arch and then a vast cavern lit up before them. In this cavern, were some strange statues facing each other, some of white marble and some, nearer to them, of black basalt. On the far side they could see a door. They walked as one towards the door, but when they drew level with the creamy white statues, they found that their way was blocked.

'Draco,' asked Ron, ' have you noticed what I have?'

'How am I supposed to know what you've noticed?'

'We're on a chessboard.'

'Oh great! I suppose that you are baggsying being the general then?'

'Of course- I'm the best player here.'

Draco snorted as if he disagreed but said nothing. Harry, Ron and Hermione took the positions of the Queen's side Rook, Knight and Bishop.

'Sorry, Draco- you're the Queen.'

Draco dutifully took up his position. Secretly he didn't mind being the queen- so what if it was a woman? It's the most powerful piece on the board, for Merlin's sake. Draco never minded taking positions of power- that was something his Dad had taught him long ago. Always take the lead, or if you can't, be the one who tells the leader where to go.

And so the game of chess began. Ron started by setting up a pawn wall and using his knights to assault the enemy pieces beyond. Suddenly Ron was left in a quandary, to attack or not to attack. To attack would break open the pawn wall, not to attack would let white's last rook wreak havoc about the board. Ron opted to break the wall. The game entered a new phase; occasionally Draco was directed on a mad dash across the board, in a desperate bid to save one of the others. White however was still losing pieces, although the white queen was still alive, an ever-present threat to Ron's game. Then he saw the opportunity to checkmate the white king. He just had to get Harry there, which required the queen not to be there and to do that. Ah. He'd have to s acrifice himself. Draco spotted what Ron was planning mere moments later.

'Ron! Are you crazy! There has to be another way!'

'There isn't!'

'Draco, you know what to do.' Said Ron, placing his trust in Draco's abilities. Draco was not insensitive to the compliment, but was primarily concerned for his friend as he took three steps forward and one to the left. The white queen started to move. Slowly the stone monster moved across the board, closing in on Ron like an elderly troll- it may be slow, but you knew when it arrived. Well, it didn't really bear thinking about. The queen took Ron. Draco moved Harry to checkmate the king. The game was over. They had won. Immediately Harry and Hermione rushed with Draco over to Ron.

'What do we do?'

'We can't just leave him here- we've got to get him to the hospital wing.'

'True. Why don't we split up?' suggested Draco,' you two go on, I'll take Ron back.'

'Don't you think I should take him back? - you're better at magic and stuff than I am, Draco.'

'Harry, somehow I've got a feeling that it needs to be you going forward. Don't know why, but Hermione's the brains, you don't need me too.' Hermione blushed at this.

'Alright then. See you later. Get a message to Dumbledore after you've got Ron to safety.'

'Yeah. Leave it to me.'

Draco lifted up the stunned Gryffindor over his right shoulder and dragged him back to the room with the keys. They had settled down slightly. Draco dragged Ron through, holding the broom that he'd picked up in the ante-chamber. They got back to the devil's snare, Ron still out cold. Draco dragged Ron onto the back of his broom, wishing that it wasn't quite such an old one. With one hand for himself and another to stop Ron falling, he kicked off. The broom slowly ascended. He went up and up towards the trapdoor. Once he was through that. He'd have an angry triple headed dog to deal with. Great. Trusting to the speed of the broom Draco soared out through the trapdoor, and with the mad dog barking at him, he felt grateful that they'd left the door open. He landed heavily just outside Fluffy's room and once more started to drag Ron along. Out of the third floor corridor, up two flights of stairs and putting Ron into the care of Madame Pomfrey, Draco quickly left, after making the minimal amount of excuses and snuck out to the owlery. Up the bleak, stone steps, he soon found his own owl. He pulled out his quill and a spare piece of parchment. Always carry spare pen and parchment, his mother had told him before he had left for Hogwarts, you never know when they might be useful, she had said. How true that seemed now.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore,_

_Someone is stealing the Philosopher's stone._

_Harry and Hermione trying to stop it. Need help._

_D Malfoy._

He set the owl off, and went back to the dormitory. There was nothing else he could do now, Pomfrey had told McGonagall. He had told Dumbledore. It was out of his hands.

The next morning, Draco woke up to find Ron back in his bed. Good. Harry, however, was nowhere to be seen.

'Ron! Where's Harry?'

'Hospital Wing.'

Draco leapt out of bed and got dressed in a hurry. He positively tore through the corridors until he was at the hospital wing. Harry was out cold on a bed. Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were looking over him, deeply discussing something that Draco couldn't hear.

Draco walked over to them.

'Hello Draco.' Said the elderly headmaster, ' How are you?'

'Fine, thanks, Sir. How's Harry?'

'He'll be alright. I got back just in time, thanks to a little note I got. Handsome owl by the way.'

'Yeah.' Draco gave a small smile, 'What happened?'

'Well, the stone is safe, thanks to Harry. It has been destroyed.

'But Flamel-'

'ahh, so you know about my old friend Nicholas do you, good. You really did go about this the right way, didn't you.'

'It was mainly Hermione.'

'I dare say you played your part. But yes, with the stone gone, Nicholas will die. But to be quite honest, I think he feels quite relieved about it. Living forever, so he assures me, isn't all its cracked up to be.'

With that, Dumbledore left the room.

The remaining days at school passed quickly. Three days later, Harry awoke and Ron, Hermione and Draco spent the rest of their term with him, finding out what had happened and wishing him a speedy recovery. Come the end of term feast, Slytherin won the house cup.

'If only we'd won some more quidditch matches!'

Their lead was decreased significantly, when Dumbledore awarded the four 210 points, but it still didn't make up the deficit. The next day they left for home on the Hogwarts express.

Draco was nervous. Today he'd be meeting his uncle and seeing where he'd spend the summer. What would he be like? Soon after the train pulled in to the station, Draco's eyes started scanning the crowd. He couldn't spot anyone who he didn't quite recognise. His uncle would have blonde hair, of course, all the Malfoy's did- but beyond that.

Five minutes later he felt a hand come down on his shoulder.

'Hello there, Draco.'

Draco span round, to see a tall, dark-haired man.

'You've got your grandfather's nose.' The man said, 'You poor bugger.'

Draco realised this had to be his uncle.

'Uncle Noctifer?'

'Yup. Guilty as charged.' Noctifer's face burst into a broad smile. 'You're the spitting image of your Dad when he was younger. Except for your nose. You've got your Grandfather's nose.'

Draco was nervous, but felt that this would be a good summer. His suspicions were confirmed, when he arrived at his new home. It was not huge, as the manor had been, but it was certainly quite a large house, very well built. Draco's room was big. Far bigger than the small room that he'd had at the manor. It was far less Spartan too. HE had a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and two bookshelves, all in matching beech. There was a small desk and a single bed in the corner. If he stepped outside of the room, his room, it was only a couple of paces to a small bathroom, which his uncle told him was his own. As far as Draco was concerned, this was luxury the likes of which he had not seen, after all his parents had believed that Draco should not exactly suffer, but should certainly live a hard life, just so he would appreciate the money when he came into his inheritance. A family tradition, his father had said. Draco loved his room and gave his uncle a hug.

'Thank-you.' He said.


	7. Chapter 7

As the weeks passed, Draco settled into a new "home" routine. He would wake early; as he always had done, and pad to his bathroom next door to wash his face with his flannel. Then he would dress. No longer the robes that he had always had to wear when he was with his parents, now it was the casual muggle clothes. Loose black cotton jogging bottoms, cheap grey cotton T-shirts. This time last year Draco would have dismissed these as muggle rubbish. Now he was beginning to appreciate that whilst they weren't all that stylish, they were comfortable – perfect for dossing around at home in. It wasn't as if he needed anything smarter, he'd been in contact with his friends, but he couldn't see them yet. Harry was strangely incommunicado, Hermione was unable to get anywhere with her parents working all the time and she wasn't allowed guests over either. At least, not Draco. Ron was another matter entirely. Draco's correspondence with Ron was really long, and they'd spent most of their holidays writing letters to each other. Draco couldn't visit Ron however, nor could Ron visit Draco. Arthur Weasley would not have anything to do with a Malfoy. Not even one who had been sorted into Gryffindor. That Draco was a Malfoy in name only, well, he'd kept that quiet - it simply wasn't the done thing to tell other people about things like that.

At any rate, a three way correspondence had let Draco know they would be going to Diagon Alley to buy school stuff next Wednesday. Apparently, Harry had somehow managed to get to go over to Ron's so would be coming with them. Uncle Noctifer had an important business meeting that day, so was unable to take Draco himself, but he saw him off through the floo network and gave him a generous amount of galleons with which to buy his school stuff and 'have a bit of fun.'

It was with trepidation that Draco set off to the Leaky Cauldron. He was the first to arrive out of his friends. The next person to turn up was Hermione. She bustled into the pub, bringing her two parents along with her. They looked rather out of place there, everyone, including Draco, in long flowing robes, Hermione and her parents were definitely in muggle clothing and stood out like a sore thumb.

'Hermione! How are you?' he all but ran over to her and gave her a friendly hug.

'Great, thanks Draco. Think Mum and dad are getting a bit of a culture shock.'

'Yeah' Draco agreed, quickly glancing at her parents.

'Well, do you need to go to the bank or anything while we wait for the Weasleys?'

'I'll do it when they get here, we're running a bit late, so they probably won't be too much longer.'

'All right. I did all that earlier.'

'So, Draco, are your parents about?'

'I don't think so; they said they weren't going to be around today.' Draco lied deftly. He still wasn't ready to tell his friends about that letter from his father. The rest of the day went well. It started with a brief panic, with Harry getting lost in Borgin and Burke's, until he was rescued by Hagrid. In there, he had seen a tall, blond-haired man-who Draco thought sounded suspiciously like his father- selling some, well, peculiar items. Draco put it out of his minds, as he trudged through the alley, resupplying his stock of common potion ingredient, getting some owl treats for his owl and buying the year's books. He had been curious when all the books he'd needed had been by Gilderoy Lockhart, with the exception of the Standard Book of Spells Grade 2. When they reached the bookstore a further surprise was in store for them. The man himself, Gilderoy Lockhart, in resplendent blue robes, sat as a king in his court, ready to sign hundreds of books for admiring fans. Then he spotted Harry. Draco could sense Harry cringing at this public treatment- anyone who even slightly knew him could see that he was hating it- but his sympathy for his friend turned instantly to intense irritation when Lockhart announced he would be teaching at Hogwarts. That imbecile! And lining his own pockets at the same time by making people buy his books, the greedy bastard.

'Honestly, Harry, can't even walk into a bookshop without making the front page' Draco teased.

'Oh leave off, Malfoy!' replied a small girl Draco hadn't seen before, presumably Ron's younger sister judging by the hair. Draco felt the opportunity to carry on having some fun.

'Ooh, Harry, looks like you've got yourself a girlfriend!'

Draco looked up to see the one man he didn't want to see at this moment. Lucius Malfoy.

'Come, now, Draco, play nicely.' He said.

'Oh deary me. What have we got here?' He picked up the bundle of books which Ron's sister, Ginny was it? Was carrying in a pewter cauldron. At that moment Arthur Weasley walked over.

'Everyone alright here? Come on lets go going, it's crazy in here.' His eyes glanced up.

'Lucius' he said coldly.

'Arthur.' came the equally curt reply. Lucius Malfoy gave his son one final look of disgust and walked away out of the shop.

'Wow, Draco! That's your Dad?! What have you done to upset him, he really seems annoyed at you.'

'Yeah, well, he has been for a while, I doubt seeing me with you will have done anything to improve his attitude towards me though.' Said Draco.

'Why?' asked Hermione, ' What did you do in the first place?'

'Nothing that you haven't done yourself.' Said Draco. He didn't want to talk about it. Not yet anyway.

The next stop on their tour of Diagon Alley was Quality Quidditch Supplies.

'Come on, Harry, you'll make the house team for sure when you try out- you are going to need to buy yourself a broomstick.'

'But what if I don't make it? I don't want to spend money on something I'll never use.'

'Oh come on Harry,' said Ron, 'A broomstick's dead useful, even if you don't make the team, not to mention the fact that you will. We need a new Seeker remember, Jack McNish left last year and there's not anyone in Gryffindor who can do better than you.'

The three boys walked into the shop whilst Hermione showed her parents Ollivander's. It was crowded in there, everyone was gathering around a sleek, new racing broom.

_The Nimbus 2001_, the placard below it read, _is the fastest broom ever to be made by the #nimbus Broom Company. With a 0-150 time of 14 seconds, and new safety features this lighter than-ever model can be flown all day, every day. Its uniquely shaped tail has been tested under new conditions to provide the most streamlined broom ever made. Price: 2,999 Galleons. _

'Wow.' Draco and Harry were both amazed at the broom. It looked beautiful. Ron however had spotted something in the far corner.

'Hey, Guys! Come and have a look at this.' Ron shouted over. They worked their way through the crowd and went over to the empty corner of the shop where Ron was standing. He was looking at the most peculiar broom Draco had ever seen in his life. It had none of the Nimbus' looks, none of its straight-line speed, and if looks were anything to go by, it was balanced to within a fraction of an inch of perfection. They read the sign below it.

_Last of the line! The Waxwing is the product of master craftsman John Cattell. It is the best handling broom available today. It may not have the best speed, (0-150 is 18 seconds, a long way off today's best), but it can out turn any broom on the market. It can turn within its own length at speeds up to 55 mph . With a Lifetime guarantee the Waxwing will be the last broom you ever buy. Price: 150 Galleons. Limited stock available. _

Harry and Draco were impressed. This was a real sports broom, able to turn at pace. It's looks may not have been as spectacular as that of the Nimbus, but the three boys loved it. When they asked how many were left, the manager tod them that there were three in the stockroom, plus the one on display. Harry and Draco brought one each, and split the cost of one for Ron between them. Ron turned scarlet as he started to protest.

'I don't need one guys, it'll be fine, you don't have to do this.'

'Ron,' said Draco, ' It'll be more fun for all of us if you have one too. That way we can all go out flying. Anyway, what good is it coming from a family like mine if you can't spend a bit of money on your friends, eh?' This finally let Ron accept it. The idea that his broom was going to be paid for by Lucius Malfoy! His Dad'd love it.

They met Hermione and headed back to the Leaky Cauldron, their parents had butterbeers, whilst the kids had pumpkin juice. When they had finished these the group split and everyone went home.

'See you on September 1st' called Draco, as he stepped into the fireplace to floo back up to Leicestershire.

That evening Draco showed Uncle Noctifer the broom.

'A Waxwing, eh Draco? Nice. Very nice. As finely balanced as one could wish for, by the looks of the thing it'll be fast too. Nice and light, that's also good. So, how much did that set you back? A pretty penny I'll bet.'

'Actually, it was only 150 Galleons.'

'Wow.' Noctifer was speechless. Never had he seen such a broom for so little.

'Uncle N?' asked Draco, 'How am I going back to Hogwarts- Dad said he wouldn't pay my fees for this year.'

'Don't you worry about that Draco, I'm doing it. It's not as if I can't afford it and I owe your Dad big time.'

'Why's that?'

'Well, when old Abraxus kicked me out of the family when I got sorted into Ravenclaw, it was Lucius who took care of me, paid the fees and so on. He'd left Hogwarts two years before me, you see, so he could afford it. When I left school I set up my business, when I had enough money I tried to pay him back but he wouldn't have anything of it. Asked me to take care of you when he kicked you out. Don't think he particularly wanted to, but Abraxus will laid it down as a strict condition, any Malfoy not sorted into Slytherin House to be disowned. So now your here.'

'Uncle Noctifer? What is it that you actually do?' Draco asked, stunned by this revelation.

'Me? Well, I'm in construction. Magical builder. Now don't look at me like that, it's a highly skilled job, all transfiguration and charming and so on. I think I'm the only one in the whole country.'

'I wasn't looking at you like that, I just realised that the reason Mother was so friendly to the man who came to built the portico was because he was you. I've always thought that was a bit odd, really.'

Draco enjoyed the rest of the holidays, spending most of his time flying about on his new broomstick. It was a thing of beauty and a joy to fly. Draco couldn't remember when he'd been so happy in his entire life, just fling about without a care in the world.

But then September the first came, and as he sat down on the Hogwarts' express he sighed to himself. Somehow he knew that school wasn't going to be so much fun this year.


	8. Chapter 8

As the great engine began to billow out of the station, Hermione came into the carriage.

'Hello Draco. Seen Harry or Ron about? Fred said that they were just behind them coming onto the platform but they don't seem to be on the train.'

'No, I've not seen them. I'm sure they'll find us before long though, we should probably stick here. At any rate, we'll see them when we get to Hogsmeade.'

Draco brought them some snacks off of the trolley when the witch came round and they had a nice quiet chat on the way up to Hogwarts. The girl who had been in London withHarrry and Ron popped her head in.

'Hi guys! Can I sit with you? Just Fred and George told me to shove off when lee Jordan came in with a tarantula.'

'Sure thing, Ginny.' Said Hermione, accidently reminding Draco who this girl was. She seemed a little nervous of dRaco, perhaps that comment about fancying Harry in the bookshop had put her off him or something. Well, he couldn't have that now, could he. For the rest of the journey Draco used all of his charm to make the two girls feel relaxed and comfortable around him- after all, it wouldn't do to neglect Hermione for a ginger first year , now, would it?

Although it soon became clear that Harry and Ron weren't on the train, the two relaxed somewhat after all, Harry and Ron could look after themselves and it wasn't as if Mr and Mrs Weasley wouldn't take care of them- if they had missed the train they'd probably arrive at school before they did themselves! They couldn't help feeling worried though, when they didn't show up at Hogsmeade. They also felt worried when they didn't show up at the feast. When they got back to the common room though, Draco ran upstairs and, smiling with relief at having found his two mates in the dorm, ran back downstairs to tell Hermione they were alright.

That night saw many jokes about cars and trees being bandied about the second year boy's dorm all of which were forgotten the next morning when they got up. Heading downstairs on their way to the luxurious Hogwarts' breakfasts which got most of them out of bed in the mornings, they spotted a note pinned to the back of the Fat Lady's portrait.

_Think you've got what it takes? Are you in second year or above? Then come to quidditch trials!_

_Main pitch, 12.00 - 14.00 next Saturday._

_Oliver Wood._

_Captain_

The excitement of quidditch was burst at breakfast, as a howler arrived from Ron. Draco had to try very hard to suppress a smile. This was easier done after Professor McGonagall had delivered them their timetables. Great. Just what he wanted, double Herbology with Hufflepuff first thing. Oh well.

After an embarrassing encounter with Lockhart, Professor Sprout ushered them all into greenhouse three. They hadn't worked in here before, since it contained plants deemed too dangerous for first years to handle. Harry and Draco ended up standing either side of a Hufflepuff who introduced himself as Justin seemed pleased to meet them.

'Ah. My dear old thing,' he said, ' nice to meet you. I'm Justin by the way.' He seemed rather impressed by Lockhart and told them so.

'Well, my name was down for Eton don't you know, but I can't tell you how frightfully glad I am that I came here instead. Of course, mother was dreadfully disappointed, but having shown her Lockhart's books has really convinced her how useful it'll be having a fully trained wizard in the old family.'

'Blimey,' whispered Draco in an aside to Ron, 'and they say us purebloods are inbred. I'm not sure he's actually got a chin at all. Can you see one?'

Draco never got an answer however, as they had to put earmuffs on to deal with the mandrakes they were re-potting.

After Herbology came Transfiguration, where Draco came first, before Hermione even, in successfully turning a beetle into a button. Hermione said she'd been distracted by Ron's broken wand, which had been acting up all lesson.

After lunch came the first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year. In swept Lockhart, who was both just as hideously awful as the boys had expected, and as hopelessly dreamy as the girls had. He started his lesson with a quiz about himself and then proceeded to set pixies loose. Chaos ensued, was dealt with by Hermione and Draco, with a little assistance from Harry and Ronand the foursome trudged out of the classroom at the end of yet another sadly typical Hogwarts' day. The only real addition to the routine was the introduction of a keen little photographer, who seemed to have developed an obsession with Harry Potter which, according to Ron, was almost as big as that of his younger sister, little Ginny Weasley. Perhaps Draco had been right in Flourish and Blotts', maybe she did fancy Harry after all. Certainly Colin seemed to be suffering from permanent over-excitement. Draco didn't approve at all. It didn't matter if you were that excited to meet Harrry, you simply didn't act like that. Calm self-control while manoeuvring for advantage was the code of the Malfoys, after all.

Midday Saturday came along sooner than any of them had expected. Having had a large breakfast, the boys took a leisurely stroll down to the pitch, their Waxwings slung over their shoulders. They were wearing standard training gear for quidditch, not the full robes- they wouldn't get those unless they made the team- but Hogwarts sports tops and trousers. They also had on thick socks and warm shoes, after all it did get cold the higher and faster you flew.

A smallish crowd had turned up, fifteen people in all, so far too many for a quidditch team. The first thing Wood had them do was run laps around the quidditch field.

'The thing about quidditch,' he roared, as he led them in their run, 'is that you have to be supremely fit. Never mind what all those people say who go "you're on brooms" you have to be in peak physical condition at all times, that's what makes the difference between winning and losing.'

After the fifth lap, Harry felt like he was going to keel over, but mercifully Oliver slowed the team down to a halt.

'Right, do your stretches.' He said, bending over to touch his toes, before diving on to the deck in a press up position to stretch his legs. Draco stretched lightly, particularly concentrating on his neck and shoulders. After this Wood split them up into groups.

'Right, everyone who wants to be seeker, go and stand over by the far goals. Everyone for goalie, by the near ones. Everyone for seeker by the home team entrance and everyone for beater by the away team entrance.' He ordered. 'Oi! You don't need to go that far!'He yelled at the retreating backs of Draco and Harry. They stopped. Wood quickly counted the applicants for the places. tHey had almost enough for two teams. One too many chasers, one too few goalies.

'Oi! Weasley Junior!' He shouted at Ron, 'Come over here, you look like you might make a good keeper.' In truth , Ron had always played keeper when he'd played in the paddock at home, so he didn't mind getting called over too much, even if it did mean he was guaranteed to be a sub at best.

'Right. We've got enough to play a mini match. Five minute rounds, with players being swapped round in between. Seekers, just try and catch the snitch.' Wood ordered. Harry and Draco mounted their brooms and kicked off into the sky. This was the first time that Harry had flown the Waxwing and Draco thought that he was enjoying himself. Certainly Draco was. The smooth handling, the fast speed. Draco hadn't ever been on a broom like it. He flew a couple of laps around the pitch until Wood had everyone else sorted. Then the game began. He and Harry were in direct competition now and there was no way he'd let him win just like that. Mind you- if he flew anything like he had in the key room. That was a scary thought and Draco did his best to block it out. Suddenly, he saw a golden glint at the other end of the pitch- the snitch! He turned his broom about, and raced off down the other end of the pitch. It may not be a racing broom, but Draco was still easily out-accelerating the chasers he could see below him. He glanced back to where the snitch was. Good, he was still closing in on it. Just needed to adjust his flight path to the right slightly. Done. Now he was there. Draco reached out his hand to grab the snitch and to his horror, saw another arm o forwards with his. Harry had been on his shoulder. Considerably the lighter of the two, Harry seemed to be going faster than Draco. Draco lurched forwards, nearly taking him off his broom, but too late. Harry had grabbed the snitch.

'Well done ,Harry!' Yelled Wood. Harry had gotten the place and Draco knew it. Perhaps he might get the reserve position. Not that he'd get much game time, though.

Two O'clock soon came and the Gryffindors left the pitch and traipsed back to their common room, exhausted by a hard session. There they were greeted by Hermione, who was finishing off an essay for professor Flitwick.

'Hermione that's at least eight feet long!'

'Well, if a job's worth doing... anyway, don't you think you ought to get changed, you're dripping mud everywhere.'


	9. Chapter 9

The weeks progressed. Harry and Ron had their detentions for their somewhat irregular arrival at school. Along with this, somehow Harry had managed to wrangle- and accept- an invitation to himself, Ron, Draco and Hermione to Nearly-Headless-Nick's deathday party.

It was by far the strangest party that Draco had been to and he'd been to many, dragged along by his parents to whatever party some society hag was putting on this week. Instead of an elegant string quartet, the music was provided by a gang of skeletons, dragging fingernails down blackboards and rattling rusty chains. The oddest thing about the room however was the people in it. Other than Ron, Hermione, Harry and Draco none of them were alive, with the possible exception of Peeves, after all, who knew what a poltergeist really was? They wandered over to the food tables. They might be missing the feast above, but that was no reason to go hungry. The food however was. It was covered with green mould, blue mould and even a white, hairy sort of mould that only grows in really damp, dark places. They watched a ghost mournfully attempt to eat the food, by walking through it with his mouth open. Apparently he couldn't taste it. Hermione wrinkle her nose. She could taste it without going anywhere near it, and the smell of the food had formed an unavoidable odorous sphere about the table on which it sat. The headless hunt was a bit cheerier than the rest of the party, even though they were a bit, well, inconsiderate, interrupting Nick like that. Draco somehow felt that his mother wouldn't have approved. Eventually, they felt they could politely leave and did so.

'Glad to be out of there. Do you think that if we hurry there'll still be desert in the great hall?'

'Honestly, Ron! All you think about is your stomach!' Hermione commented angrily. Even she was quite hungry by now, so they hurried off to the great hall. They never made it. AS they rounded a corner, they noticed that they were suddenly walking in a puddle. They rounded a corner and a loud noise reached their ears, that of sixty benches simultaneously being pushed back.

'Oh no! The feast has finished. We've missed it!' exclaimed Ron, hungry as ever. Draco was also a bit miffed. He didn't like going to bed hungry. Never mind, he could always raid his tuck trunk for something to eat before heading to bed.

Harry 's mouth was hanging open. Draco looked up and suddenly he knew why. It was Mrs Norris, hung up on an old bracket on the wall. She looked rather like an old, abandoned feather duster. The noise of footsteps grew and suddenly the whole school surrounded them. They turned around and noticed some strange writing on the wall.

'Hah! Enemies of the heir beware!' called a voice they knew all too well, 'Watch out mudbloods! You'll be next.' It was Theodore Nott, his large pasty white face flushed with an unwholesome shade as blood flushed to his face as he stood there grinning, grinning at the lifeless body of the cat. Up behind him came the wheezing Argus Filch.

'What's all this then. Get a move on. Get a move on. What are you all gawping at anyway...My Cat! My cat! Someone's murdered my cat! Potter! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!'

Filch advanced angrily towards Harry, only to be stopped by the appearance of none other than Albus Dumbledore himself.

'Argus!' the old man exclaimed, 'Control yourself. Now, all of you students go back to your house common rooms immediately. All except,' he said waving a long, knobbly finger, 'you four.'

The students crept away, whispers spreading between them as they tried to work out what had happened.

'Professor Dumbledore, my office is nearest, if you'd care for the use of it.' Lockhart helpfully offered. The professors, Mr Filch and the four friends hurried along behind the headmaster's sweeping robes towards Lockhart's office.

'She's not dead, Argus.' Dumbledore concluded after a long period of poking, prodding and sniffing the body of Mrs Norris, 'she has merely been, petrified.'

'So unlucky, if only I'd been there- I know the very counter-curse that could have saved her' said Lockhart. This seemed only to upset Filch further.

'My Cat. Has been. Petrified. I want to see some punishment!' He sobbed angrily.

'Argus my dear fellow, Professor Sprout has an excellent crop of mandrakes coming on this year, we can soon make up some mandrake restorative draught up and revive her. IT's not permanent.'

'He did it!' Filch yelled, hardly relieved by the fact he'd have to wait to get his beloved cat back, 'I know he did it! He saw my Kwikspell letter. He knows. He knows I'm a squib!'

'Argus. No second year could possibly do this. It would require dark magic of the strongest kind.'

'It was him. I know it was!'

'Argus. You are getting hysterical. Calm yourself.' Dumbledore ordered. Professor Sprout kindly sat him down and made him a cup of camomile and lavender tea from Lockhart's private supply.

'Is there anything you four would like to tell me?' continued the headmaster. They all shook their heads. After all, they knew no more than anyone else did.

The headmaster dismissed them and they headed slowly back to the Gryffindor common room.

'What's that all about?'

'What do you mean?

'This chamber of secrets thing' Harry asked.

'Well, my dad told me that when Slytherin left the school, he left behind a chamber with a monster in it to purge the school of those unworthy of studying magic.'

'What do you mean _unworthy to study magic?_'

'Calm down Hermione, that's just what my dad said- he's a complete blood-purity loon, remember?'

'Blood purity?'

'Yeah, Bloody purity. Some wizards, like my dad, reckon that pure bloods are better than others because they've not got any muggle blood in them. They think it's dirty and contaminates the pure wizarding stock- makes squibs more likely, that sort of thing. From dirty blood came "mudblood", you all heard Nott going on earlier about _that_ I'm sure. It's not the sort of phrase one normally utters in polite company and certainly not outside of a room where everyone is a pureblood. Simply not the done thing.' Explained Malfoy.

'What's a squib?' asked Harry.

'A squib, well it's the opposite of a muggle-born. Explains a lot that Filch is one really. He's bitter. A job mopping up after that which he should have been? Can't imagine that would make anyone feel secure about themselves, can you?'

They eventually reached the Fat Lady as the bells chimed midnight. It had been a long day and despite being hungry they went straight to bed.

Seven hours later, they were awake again.

'What already?' Ron groaned as the others woke him up. They hurried down to breakfast and took their usual seats in the great hall. Draco was really hungry- he'd only had a light lunch yesterday and that was by now nineteen hours ago. He heard his stomach rumble, but no-one else did. As Draco was tucking into his fourth chipolata of the morning, he began to listen to the conversation that was going on along the rest of the table. Everyone was talking about the chamber of secrets. Draco was washing down his final slice of toast with pumpkin juice when Hermione walked into the hall. She wasn't usually this late to breakfast.

'Where've you been?' Draco asked.

'Library.'

'Already? It's not even exam term, what were you doing in the library this early?'

'The same thing everyone else was, trying to find a copy of _Hogwarts, a History._'

'Why?' chipped in Ron, who had just finished his breakfast.

'To try and find out more about the chamber of secrets. Lockhart's books took up so much room I couldn't fit it in my trunk when I came to school. Seems like loads of other people had the same idea though, there wasn't a single copy left.' Hermione seemed shocked at the concept of all the copies of a book in the library being checked out when she didn't have one.

Hermione had time for a quick bowl of porridge before having to rush off to History of Magic. It was perversely Draco's third favourite lesson, right after charms and transfiguration. He loved sitting there, relaxing and hearing Professor Binns telling all the stories he'd grown up with. The rebellion of Ug the Unclean had been his favourite bed-time story when he was five. Today he decided to ask a question, so he stuck his hand up.

This rather shocked Binns, who hadn't had someone stick their hand up in his class for the best part of two centuries.

'Yes, you, Maladroit'

'Malfoy, sir.'

'What did you want to ask, boy.'

'Sir, can you tell us about the chamber of secrets?'

'The Chamber of Secrets. Pah! It's a myth lad, a myth! This is History of magic. Here we only deal with cold, hard, indisputable fact. This isn't story time!'

By now the whole class had emerged from its usual stupor. Soon everyone began asking Binns about the Chamber.

'Very well. If it will stop you asking questions..' The old ghost droned.

'AS you well know, Hogwarts was built over a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. Now, time passed and the founders came to a, a disagreement and one of their number left the school forever. This much is solid fact and is well documented. The founder who left the school was Salazar Slytherin. There is some doubt over the reason that Slytherin left over, but it is widely thought to be that he refused to accept students who came from non-magical backgrounds, deeming them unworthy. Over the years since he left, a rumour has sprung up to the effect that Slytherin built a secret chamber in the castle before he left the school for the final time, containing some sort of a monster. Slytherin's heir, when he returned to the school was supposed to be able to unleash "the horror within". This is complete nonsense however. The castle has been searched many times and no evidence of such a chamber has been uncovered.'

Having finished, Binns went back to his lesson plan and the class went back to sleep. This lesson did however serve only to ignite the fire of curiosity in the hearts of the Gryffindors who had been in it.

'Only the heir of Slytherin can open it.'

'Yeah, seems that way. What do you think that means though, one of the Slytherin's is a Slytherin in more ways than one?'

'Yeah, probably. Bet it's Nott.' Said Harry.

Draco wasn't so sure. The Notts may have been an old family, but none of them could trace their ancestry back to Slytherin as far as he could remember. Besides, his Uncle had told him a horror story about Hogwarts before he'd left this year. A story that apparently Lucius had told him. A story of the chamber being opened, nigh on fifty years ago. No Nott had been at the school then. But what about Theo's mother? She might have been. Or his grandmother? It was always possible.

'Well, there's only one way we can get into the Slytherin common room to find out.' Said Hermione, continuing the conversation, 'Polyjuice potion.'

'That stuff!' Draco exclaimed, bursting into the conversation. 'How're we supposed to make that? Anyway, didn't Snape say that the recipe was in the restricted section?'

'All we need is a signed note from a teacher to get it though.'

'Yeah, but come on Hermione, no teacher's going to fall for that – they'd have to be really thick!' Ron pointed out.


	10. Chapter 10

It was with a note signed by Lockhart that Hermione claimed Moste Potente Potions from the restricted section. A brief skim over the recipe told them it would take about a month to make. Draco and Hermione would each be brewing a batch, just to have a back-up in case one went wrong. Draco had also suggested doing it this way in case one of them – Hermione - got attacked by the heir in the month that it took to brew.

That Saturday, Draco was lying in bed, worried. He wasn't on the subs bench for the first match of Gryffindor's season, but Harry was playing and he wanted him to do well, Gryffindor needed the points from quidditch if they were to win the house cup this after Harry went down to breakfast- far earlier than usual- he got up and headed downstairs himself. At breakfast he joined the team- he was a member of the squad after all, so no one had any problems with it. They were all nervous. Harry was the worst of all, as this was going to be his first match. Later, the team went down to the pitch and changed. They got a shock when they saw the Slytherin line-up though. Their new seeker was Theodore Nott, and the whole team had been presented with Nimbus 2001's by Nott's father. Draco was in the stands, listening to Lee Jordan's lively commentary.

'Here we are today on the Hogwarts' quidditch ground to watch this year's Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Match. Both teams are unchanged from last year, barring seekers. Slytherin have Theodore Nott taking up the role, whereas Gryffindor have Harry Potter. The Slytherin team are flying the new Nimbus 2001, the fastest broom on the market. It has an incredible straight line speed which may make the match rather difficult for Gryffindor. Potter comes from quite another school of thought though. Now Madamae Hooch is stepping on the field with the balls, ready to start the match. She throws the quaffle in the air and the match begins. Potter's broom is of course the Waxwing, a broom from the shed of John Cattell. It is a finely balanced broom and while notably slower than the top brooms available on today's market, it can go round corners like the Knight Bus. Pucey has gone on a run and he scores! Ten points for Slytherin. There was really nothing Wood could have done there, as he races to collect the quaffle which he throws straight to Angelina Johnson, not only is Angelina the first girl to score more than fifty goals in a season for Gryffindor since 1782, she is also by far the most attractive...'

'JORDAN! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU!' burst in Professor McGonagall, 'NO FLIRTING WHEN COMMENTATING!'

'And as Professor McGongall so comely reminds us, quidditch is a sport to be taken seriously, just like the Gryffindor attack. The chasers are recycling the ball among themselves very effectively, the Slytherins can't get anywhere near them. Nor can the bludgers! Try as the Weasley twins might, one of the bludgers seems to be following Potter around. We have a rogue bludger, the first time since, I don't know when that that has happened, perhaps Professor McGonagall might have an idea.'

'It was 1427 that the last rogue bludger was recorded at Hogwarts, Lee.'

'Thank-you, Professor McGonagall. 1427, that's a long time ago indeed. The bludger is still chasing Potter and Nott seems to be laughing at him. By the looks of things Potter's none too happy with that, he's flying straight at him. Is Potter attempting the Hermite Slip? A move that hasn't been seen at Hogwarts since Charlie Weasley left? No! He's just flying straight at him. This will be interesting. AND HE'S SEEN THE SNITCH! Potter is weaving about now through the stands trying to find the most beautiful of balls and the waxwing is really showing how fast it can manoeuvre, Nott can't keep up despite his superior straight line speed. Ooh! That's close, Potter narrowly avoids flying into the stand. BUT NOTT DOESN'T! HE'S DOWN! HE'S DOWN! NOTT'S DOWN! But Slytherin have just scored another goal! The score is now fifty points to none! The race for the snitch only has one competitor though. Can Potter catch the snitch before Slytherin score another ten goals? He ought to, but he is a new player to the game and we simply cannot tell what he will do. The Bludger is right behind him and Potter has stopped. He appears to be searching for the snitch. OW! The bludger has hit Potter's arm and I think I could hear the bone break from here. Potter must be in agony. Will both of the seekers be eliminated? If so, what will happen? No! Potter is carrying on! Potter is carrying on! He's diving. A fine dive and he's going to crash! No! He hasn't crashed, somehow he managed to avoid crashing into the ground, but he still missed the snitch, it's right behind him, surely he can't turn quick enough to catch it, but no! That broom can really turn! He's managed to turn on the spot and has caught the snitch! Harry Potter has caught the snitch and ends the game, scoring one hundred and fifty points for Gryffindor. Gryffindor win, one hundred and sixty points to seventy. Potter lands his broom and HE'S FAINTED. POTTER SECURES THE SNITCH AND LANDS BEFORE FAINTING. PROBABLY THE BROKEN ARM. NOW THERE'S A PITCH INVASION. A VAST CROWD OF GRYFFINDORS SEEM TO BE RUNNNING TOWARDS THEIR SEEKER! THEY'RE BEING LED BY PROFESSOR LOCKHART! WHAT'S HE DOING?'

'Calm down Lee!' interrupted McGonagall.

'It appear that Lockhart is attempting to fix Harry's arm. THAT IS DISGUSTING. RATHER THAN FIXING THE BONES LOCKHART'S REMOVED THEM! Harry's forearm can be bent in two. He's in for a long and painful visit to the hospital wing tonight. But the match is over now, so this is your commentator, Lee Jordan and summariser Professor McGonagall saying goodbye. See you at the next quidditch match which will be Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw! See you next week!'

AS Draco and Ron helped Harry to the Hospital Wing, they complained about Lockhart. Removing the bones? How stupid could you get? If you didn't know how to do something like that properly, you should leave it to the experts, just common sense. Draco was sure that there was cause for complaints, but that was nothing, nothing compared to the rogue bludger. Who had tampered with it? It must have been a really powerful wizard to get round the anti-tampering charms, so that ruled Lockhart out, but they had no idea who might have done it.

That particular question was answered at breakfast the next morning, when Harry turned up.

'Harry! You look as white as a sheet! What's wrong?' Hermione asked.

'Nothing really, had a bad night, first I got visited by a demented house elf, then Creevey was brought in.'

'Creevey? What was wrong with him?'

'He's been petrified.'

'What! Petrified like Mrs Norris?' asked Ron.

'Yeah.'

'Couldn't have happened to a nicer person.' Said Draco, who had, like all of them, quite frankly been getting annoyed at Creevey's Potter-worship.

'Draco!' admonished Hermione.

'You said something about a house elf?' asked Ron, trying to bring the conversation onto safer ground.

'Yeah. It's the same house elf that visited me over the summer. Apparently he stopped us from getting onto the platform in London and set that bludger on me!'

'That elf's a real menace.' Said Ron.

'Yeah, I wish Dobby would stop trying to be so helpful. He really isn't.'

'Did you say Dobby?' asked Draco.

'Yep.'

Draco's face turned, not quite as white as Harry's, but certainly noticeably paler.

'My Dad owns an elf called Dobby.' He whispered in a state of shock. The others, however, didn't hear him over the noise of Seamus Finnegan entering the hall.

'DID YOU SEE THE NOTICE ON THE DOOR?' He yelled at them. As he approached he got quieter.

'There's going to be a duelling club here, everyone can come along. Do you think you're going to go?'

Harry and Ron were really keen to go, so they went along at eight o'clock, and lined up in front of the stage that had been set up. They'd been hoping Flitwick might be taking it- the Hogwarts' rumour mill was saying that he used to be a duelling champion in his youth- but in walked the person they'd all least been hoping for. A quiet groan went around the room, unbeknownst to its cause, Lockhart.

'Hello. The headmaster has given me permission to start this duelling club, so I think I'll begin with a demonstration, with my wonderful assistant, Professor Snape!'

'Why does the fact he's doing a demo depend on the fact he's got permission from the Head?' Roin whispered in Draco's ear.

'No idea. Probably can't think straight, knowing him.'

'...can see that we have our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three we will cast our spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill of course.'

'Shame.' Said Ron.

'Amen to that.' Said Draco.

The two professors raised their wands and brought them down. Snape gave a great cry of _"Expelliarmus!"_ and Lockhart's wand duly went flying across the hall, shortly followed by Lockhart himself.

'Do you suppose he's all right?' asked Hermione.

'Who cares.' Harry, Ron and Draco said together. Lockhart was unsteadily getting to his feet.

'As you can see that was a disarming charm. I've lost my wand. Yes, an excellent idea that Professor, but if I may permit myself to say so, it was quite, quite obvious what you were intending to do, and had I not felt it would be more constructive to show its effects, I could have blocked it only too easily.' Snape was looking like he was ready to commit murder. For once, Lockhart had noticed and decided it was time for the student body to have a go?Potter, Weasley, how about you two...?'

'Weasley's wand causes utter devastation with the simplest of spells. We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a match box. May I suggest someone else? Malfoy, perhaps?'

'An excellent suggestion Professor. Malfoy, over here. Potter, with Professor Snape.'

The pair duly climbed onto the stage.

'Righty ho! I'm going to count to three. When I reach it, I want you to cast spells to disarm each other. One..Two..Three..'

'_Rictusempra_'

'_Tarantallegra_!'

Harry and Draco simultaneously cat spells at each other, as friendly as they were, each was playing to win, neither was going to listen to Lockhart.

'I said disarm only.' Yeah, right! Draco thought. There's no-one in this room who's cast a disarming spell. Well, maybe Hermione. Draco's train of thought was interrupted as Harry had by now gotten to his feet and had cast another spell. This time Draco ducked to avoid it.

'Well done, Malfoy! Finally using your Brain!' Snape boomed from the other end. Not even his friends attacked him without a comeback though, so Malfoy cast again.

'_Blatire_!' Draco cast a babbling curse at Harry.

'Stop! Stop!' Yelled Lockhart, 'I said disarm only!'

'Finite Incantatem!' Snape had decided to take over. Slowly the mayhem in the hall ended.

'Ahh. I think perhaps it might be wise to teach you how to block unfriendly spells. Now, how about our demonstrating pair gives it a go. Now, you two, just watch me.'

Lockhart raised his wand and waved it in a complicated, wiggly manner, before the end of the wand hit his head and he dropped it.

'Yes, well, you get the idea. Now, on the mark of three. One. Two. Three!'

'_Serpensortia!' _screamed Draco and a long serpent came out of the end of his wand.

'Don't move, Potter.' Started Snape, 'I'll get rid of it for you.'

'Allow me.' Interrupted Lockhart, '_Ascendere.'_ The snake flew up into the air and landed by a nervous Justin Finch-Fletchley.

All of a sudden, Draco heard a strange hissing sound come out of Harry's mouth. He was hissing at the snake! What was he doing? Trying to make the snake go towards Justin?

'_Accendere' _

As Snape cast the spell, the serpent burst into flames before their eyes. So _that_ was what Lockhart had been trying to do.

Ron came to his sense first, and dragged Harry out of the hall. Draco and Hermione glanced at each other, and followed at a trot. Back in the common room, Ron pushed Harry into an armchair.

'You're a Parselmouth! Why didn't you tell us?'

'I'm a what?'

'A Parselmouth, Harry, honestly, you can speak to snake- you're a parselmouth.'

'I know. I' Harry coughed, 'accidently set a boa constrictor on my cousin in a zoo had been telling me about how it had never seen Brazil..'

'Harry, as nice as it is to have this rare gift, what on earth are you doing in Gryffindor?' Draco asked.

'Huh?'

'Well, the most notable parselmouth in the last millennium was Salazar Slytherin- there's a reason their house symbol's a snake, you know. It's also a gift that runs in families.'

The truth was beginning to dawn on Harry. He'd just identified himself to the whole school as a possible descendant, heir if you like, of Slytherin.

'But, I'm not...'Harry stuttered. 'I can't be. I'm not the heir of Slytherin!'

'That'd be hard to prove' said Hermione, 'He died nigh on a thousand years ago, for all we know, you might be.'

No-one in the second year Gryffindor dorm slept well that night.


	11. Chapter 11

Almost as soon as Draco had found out one of his friends was a parselmouth, he had written a letter to his uncle asking for advice.

_Dear Uncle N,_

_Hope you are well and that your cold is clearing up. Since I last wrote there has been another attack – a first year Gryffindor. He was petrified. Harry, who was in the hospital wing when he was brought in said it was because he was looking through his camera. We also went to a duelling club earlier today where Harry and I demonstrated in front of basically the whole school. I summoned a snake and Harry spoke parseltongue to it- any ideas?_

_Not to get sidetracked, Gryffindor won the quidditch match against Slytherin- Harry made a brilliant catch of the snitch, but a bludger had already broken his arm-hence he was in the hospital wing at the time of the attack. Nothing else much is happening here, but I'd like to thank you for the box of sweets you sent-I shared them out at the celebration party after the match. Managed to keep the truffles between me and my dorm-mates though!_

_See you!_

_Draco._

_P.S. I was thinking of staying at the castle over Christmas – My mate Harry's not got any family to go to, so it might be nice to keep him company and do some "work"._

The reply came back quickly, though not without a large box of sweets.

_Dear Draco,_

_All is fine here- my cold has nearly gone, into that annoying sniffles bit at the end now. Good news about Gryffindor winning the match. Hope you enjoyed the duelling, the little I've done has been, if a bit dangerous, rather good fun – afterwards anyway- but I must confess surprise at the news that your friend Harry is a parselmouth- thought any of them would have been sorted straight into Slytherin, wouldn't you- anyway, have headed to the upstairs library and had a nose round. Couldn't find anything so had a look in the __**other**__ library. No mention of any Potters being parselmouths. An obscure reference said that He-who-must-not-be-named was one, and given Harry's history- well, who knows what happened that night. _

_As for Christmas, if you want to stay at the castle, no problem- I have a new project coming up for the ministry (all rather hush-hush) so I wouldn't have been about much anyway._

_Have enclosed another box of sweets, which has extra truffles within. Keep me informed about the attacks._

_Take care. _

_Uncle N._

Draco read the letter and immediately burnt it- it wouldn't do to have Harry know that he was getting his uncle to snoop up on him, but he felt strangely comforted by it. No Potters had been parselmouths- Harry probably wasn't the heir of Slytherin after all. That night, only Draco and Harry slept soundly.

Throughout the rest of the school, everyone was now staying away from Harry with the exception of the Weasley twins, who seemed to find it all extremely funny.

'Way! Make Way for the heir of Slytherin!' They would call when Harry walked by them.

On one occasion they even accosted Professor Snape.

'Move, sir! Harry's in a hurry!'

'Yeah! He's off to the chamber of secrets to have high tea with his monster!'

Although he tried to hide it, Snape hid a chuckle and promptly took ten points off of Fred and George.

Even they became a bit wary of Harry though, when he was the first person to find a petrified Nearly-headless Nick and Justin Finch-Fletchley. That had earned Harry a visit to the headmaster's study, but somehow, just somehow, Draco was sure that it wasn't Harry. Nonetheless, the rest of the school seemed rather relieved that they'd be getting away from Harry soon, as the end of term rapidly approached.

The last few lessons of the term were severely disrupted by the vast dump of snow that fell overnight. They couldn't get to Herbology and potions in the dungeons was so cold, that they huddled close to their fires to try and keep warm as they simmered their velvety, green potions. As it turned out, all of the Weasleys and Hermione had all stayed over Christmas.

Christmas morning dawned, bright and cold, with a fresh coat of crisp white snow covering the footprints of yesterday's snowball fights. Hermione burst in the boy's dorm at half seven sharp.

'Morning!'

'Hermione, you're not supposed to be in here.' Yawned Ron.

'And a Merry Christmas to you' retorted Hermione, ' I've been up for an hour adding lacewings to the potion, yours too Draco, it's ready.'

'Are you sure' asked Harry.

'Positive' and with that, Hedwig flew in to the room. Everyone took this as a cue to open their presents, even Hermione who had brought hers with her.

Harry had gotten him a large box of fudge, whereas Ron had gotten him _Quidditch for squibs,_ a wonderfully detailed guide on tactics, strategy and trivia relating to the wizarding world's favourite sport. Harry had gotten him a set of rather nice chessmen, made of ebony and Carrara marble and Hermione had gotten him a muggle chemistry book.

'So you did it then!' said Draco, beaming. Hermione and he had had a discussion about potions. Draco said that it was something muggles hadn't replicated; Hermione said it was just a different form of chemistry. She had threatened to buy him a textbook on the subject so he could find out for himself. And so she had.

The best present Draco got came from his uncle. It arrived a bit late, carried by a large owl Draco recognised at once. As soon as the bird had delivered its burden, it took off into the early morning. What it left behind was something that Draco hadn't seen before in his life. It was wrapped up in brown paper, not that that was of any interest, but what it was, was a miniature probity probe.

_Dear Draco,_

_Merry Christmas. Hope you are happy and well. Enjoy yourself! I have sent a miniature probity probe to you. It can detect concealments and other things which have been magically hidden. Hopefully it might be able to help keep you safe from the thing. It should fit neatly in a wand pocket, but isn't quite as powerful as the full size version._

_I intend to end this missive on a happy note, but one more bit of misery first, Draco – keep your friends close. There is nothing like a friend to help keep you safe. Anyway-Happy new year to you! I will of course be about so if you need anything, owl me._

_With love_

_Uncle N._

_xx_

Draco put the probe in the wand pocket, sewn into the inside of his robes and headed down for breakfast. By lunchtime it had already come in useful, stopping Draco from being surprised by Fred's attempt to pull a prank on them all. For this Draco was grateful – he hadn't had his hair dyed bright blue like Harry, Ron and Hermione- but it did make him suspect that Fred, or maybe George, would try just that little harder next time, which was not a comforting thought.

Christmas dinner at Hogwarts was truly excellent. It started off with a starter of smoked salmon, just a couple of slices, with a bit of Melba toast and a wedge of lemon. The main course was spectacular. On every house table appeared ten bird roast. On the outside was a large turkey, still pretty much intact and on the inside of that were the breasts of a whole host of other birds that Draco couldn't recognise by sight. There were roast potatoes, pigs in blankets, stuffing, red cabbage, roasted vegetables, parsnips, swede, peas and carrots, all to be topped off with gravy.

Draco began to load his plate, perhaps a little greedily as Percy Weasley carved the bird. They all got generous slices of the roast. Draco thought he could taste duck in there somewhere; there was certainly goose and turkey. By the end of the main course, Draco felt like he was stuffed to the gunwales.

Then Dumbledore waved his hands, and dessert appeared. There was some chocolate thingy, rich and gooey for those who wanted it but the highlight was the Christmas pudding. It sat in the middle of the table, gently flaming and black as the ace of spades. Then, as suddenly as it had caught fire, the flames went out, cream and custard appeared on the table and Draco helped himself to a goodly wodge and smothered it in double cream so thick he had to get it out of the jug with a spoon.

As the cream began to gently thin, melt might have been a better word, on top of the Christmas pudding, Draco began to eat. The rich effusion of flavours filled his mouth.

'Ohh.' He groaned, 'That's gorgeous.' as he slowly devoured his dessert.

When they left the hall, Harry and Ron hid in wait for Crabbe and Goyle, in order to get _their 'bit of whoever you're changing into.'_ while Hermione and Draco headed up to the lavatory where they had decided to brew the potion. Hermione already had her bit –some of Millicent Bullstrode's hair whereas Draco didn't need any- they didn't know any other Slytherins who were staying other than Crabbe and Goyle- obviously it was no good impersonating Nott, he'd see straight through that- so Draco wasn't going. For Millicent Bullstrode to be 'returning' was improbable enough, and might well give the game away, two Slytherins returning unexpectedly was just foolish.

Draco couldn't disguise a small smile when Harry, Ron and Hermione ran away to the toilets to throw up. When Ron and Harry stepped back out again, it was almost as if his childhood friends were in the room with him.

'You coming, Hermione?'

'No. I don't think I'm feeling well enough.'

Draco made a snap decision.

'You guys head off, Father always talked about the Slytherin common room being down in the dorms, behind some wretched Gargoyle. I'll stay here and look after Hermione.'

'Alright, see you!' said Harry-or was it Ron? And the two left the bathroom. As the two boys left, another person arrived. Moaning Myrtle, a ghost who haunted the lavatory where she had died, came through the door from the cubicle where Hermione was. Disturbingly, she had a smile on her face.

'Hello, Myrtle! You seem happy.' Said Draco.

'Oh yes,' Myrtle cackled, 'you should see her,' she gestured at the cubicle where Hermione was with her thumb, 'it's awful!' she glided away to the other side of the room, over to where the sinks were, giggling maliciously. This worried dRaco.

'Hermione, are you all right?'

'Go away!'

'No, Hermione if something's gone wrong we ought to get help.'

Draco sat there for another hour trying to persuade Hermione to come out. She refused, saying she come out when Harry and Ron were back. Eventually they returned.

'I can't believe it! After all that and it isn't him!' Harry, it was definitely Harrry this time, practically shouted.

'So I take it the polyjuice worked?' Draco inquired.

'Yeah, but unfortunately we didn't find out any – is Hermione still in there by the way?'

'Hermione! Harry and Ron are back! Are you coming out now?'

'No!'

'Ahh' said Draco, he lowered his voice so that Hermione couldn't hear him, 'Guys, I think we have a problem. You take the shoes and stuff back to the real Crabbe and Goyle, I'll try and get Hermione to the hospital wing – I think something went wrong with the transformation. Meet you in the dorm.'

Once the two boys had left, Draco tried to persuade Hermione to come out of the cubicle.

'Come on, Hermione it can't be _that_ bad, whatever it is, we'll just go to Madame Pomfrey- she normally keeps pretty hush-hush about things anyway.'

'I don't want to.'

'Come on, Hermione, you can't stay in there forever you know.'

The lock slid back, Hermione had her robes up, covering her face.

'What's wrong, still got Millicent's nose or something?'

'No. Promise not to laugh.'

'I promise.' Said Draco and Hermione lowered the robes down to show her face, which was completely covered in fur, her eyes had turned yellow, and sticking out of the top of her head were two pointy cat's ears. Draco struggled, not entirely in vain, to stop himself from even raising a small smile, but he knew he couldn't keep it up for long, he could suppress a laugh, but he needed to smile, so he did the only thing he could. He ran over to Hermione and gave her a hug. There, with his face safely behind her back, he let his face to what it wanted to then he looked down.

'Hermione, don't worry about it,' he started,' it's nothing to worry about at all. What's that? You've got a tail? Come on, the sooner we get you to Pomfrey, the less chance there is that you'll be seen.'

'Thanks Draco' said Hermione, entirely unamused.


	12. Chapter 12

When Hermione finally left the hospital wing, term had restarted. The boys soon filled her in on everything she had missed, there were the lessons- mostly dull but important, the gossip- interesting but unimportant and the diary hat someone had thrown at Myrtle – interesting and possibly important.

'Look Hermione, it's 50 years old, the chamber was opened 50 years ago.'

'It could be dangerous.'

'We'll never know unless we find out how to read it- it could be important.'

'Why?'

'Well, Hermione,' Ron began, '50 years ago Tom Marvolo Riddle got a special awards for services to the school. 50 years ago the chamber was opened. What if he was the one to catch the heir? It'll probably be full of information about how to get into the chamber, what's in there, who's opening it...'

'Alright. Give it here then.' Hermione stuck out her hand and Harry obediently stuck the book into it.

'_Aparecium_'

'Already tried that.' Said Draco. Nothing had happened. Hermione was unperturbed by this and went searching about in her bag for a thick, red rubber.

'It's a revealer.' She explained as she rubbed it over the date on the page, 'it's supposed to show up hidden magic. I got it in Diagon Alley last August.'

'Doesn't work though, does it.' Scoffed Ron.

The weeks wore on and there had been no more attacks. No more progress had been made on getting the diary to show its stuff either, although studious research had revealed the former owner had been a prefect, head boy, got top marks in every class and had been in Slytherin. Unfortunately, one thing that progress had been made on was Lockhart's surprise for the school. It came on February the fourteenth. As Draco went down to breakfast, he noticed that the whole school had pink, heart-shaped balloons floating about it. When he arrived in the great hall though, he found that he'd lost his appetite for his favourite meal. Lockhart had swirled in, wearing violent pink robes and declared that he was running a Valentine's day service, to be delivered by harp-carrying dwarfs in golden wings. Unsurprisingly, the dwarfs were pretty grumpy about this. Harry got an embarrassing one, which Draco happened to know was from Ginny Weasley- she'd spent most of the last week composing it in the Gryffindor common room, desperately although successfully, trying to keep it a secret from Harry. In order to deliver it though, the dwarf had had to rugby-tackle Harry to the ground, which broke one of his bottles of ink, all over his things. Draco also got one, from whom he didn't know, although he suspected it might have been Pansy Parkinson- her mother was a first-class gold-digger and it was a widely held view that her daughter would turn out the same way. It arrived just as they were leaving charms. Having seen what the dwarfs were prepared to do having seen Harry get tackled down earlier, Draco stood there while the dwarf did his piece.

_The blond man of my dreams _

_Shall come and go as he pleases_

_Though my life comes apart at the seams_

_Whenever me he teases_

'Oh dear Lord above,' Draco muttered under his breath, wincing at the sender's desperate attempt to ensure a rhyme. Behind him, Hermione seemed slightly upset but Draco had no idea why.

Hermione still didn't seem to be in a good mood when they got back to the common room that evening. She sat in an armchair, deeply engrossed in a book, whilst Draco played a game of wizard's chess with Ron. As usual Ron was winning, although not by much. Harry was up in the dormitory and had been since dinner.

'Queen to Bishop 4. Checkmate' finished Ron.

'Bother. Didn't spot that one.'

'Fancy another game?'

'Nah, it's getting late – we ought to head up. See you tomorrow Hermione.'

'Night Hermione.'

When they reached the dorm, they found Harry, sitting bolt upright on his bed, looking very pale and gently shaking.

'It was Hagrid.'

'What was Hagrid?' asked Ron, completely nonplussed.

'He opened the chamber.'

'How d'you know that?'

'I got the diary to work.'

The next day they decided to visit Hagrid, to ask him about the whole thing. After all, if he had opened it, he'd be the person to go to to find out more. In the end though, they decided that they didn't want to ask him- after all, that conversation probably wouldn't go too well –unless there was another attack. They soon forgot about that though, with the second years being asked to choose their subjects for next year.

Draco already knew what he wanted to study, the core subjects he would carry on, after all, they weren't allowed to drop them, but for the others, he'd take up arithmancy and ancient runes- two nice hard subjects. His uncle had warned him that whilst the "soft" options looked good now, they wouldn't when he had to put them on his CV, if he hadn't gotten that warning, he might have done care of magical creatures instead.

Harry and Ron decided they were both going to take up divination and care of magical creatures, whereas Hermione ambitiously decided that she would take up _everything_. As they all handed their forms into Professor McGonagall -who skimmed through them briefly, not reacting at all until he came to Hermione's, when she slightly raised her left eyebrow – Neville came running to see them.

'Harry- you'd better come quick. Someone's ransacked your stuff in the dorm!'

'What?'

'Just come on.' Neville urgently waved them on. They ran back upstairs as fast as they could. When they got to the Dorm, everyone was out of breath. It took them a while to get their breath back, but when they did, Hermione spoke first.

'It must've been a Gryffindor- no-one else knows our password!'

'Yeah, or it wasn't a student.' Said Draco, darkly, 'anything missing?'

'Nothing obvious.'

'Ermm, I've got to go and do my form for McGonagall.' Said Neville. He left.

'Now Neville's gone.' begun Harry, ' Riddle's Diary is missing.'

'What just that? Nothing else?'

'Nothing else.' Confirmed Harry

'Who could have known?'

'Well, anyone really, I haven't exactly been hiding it, have I?'

'S'pose not.' Draco's face elongated as a dreadful thought crossed his mind. 'You don't think it was the heir do you? You know, trying to stop the diary telling you what it knew.'

'Nah. Course not!' laughed Ron, ' I mean- how would they even know it had anything to do with the chamber- not even Hagrid would have seen it before.'

The sun peeked its head above the horizon early the next morning, so it was already a bright, sunny day by the time that Draco got down to breakfast. Harry had already gone down, to have a bit of extra time to get ready for the quidditch match, so when Draco and Hermione walked into the hall for breakfast, they went to join him. Suddenly, just as Ron joined them, Harry shouted something out about a voice.

'It says it's going to kill this time!'

This left Draco confused- he hadn't heard a voice- was Harry going mad or something? Hermione however seemed to have had a revelation. She leapt up and ran off to the library, holding a bit of toast in one hand and a half-eaten sausage in the other.

Draco didn't see Hermione before it was time to head off to quidditch.

'Hey, Ron. Seen Hermione about recently?'

'Not since breakfast- she's probably still in the library.'

'Do you think we ought to get her- it's nearly time for the match.'

'Nah- you know what Hermione's like- doesn't like quidditch, does like the library- if she wanted to come she'd be here.'

So they set off down to the quidditch ground. They arrived slightly late, and as they were walking onto the ground, Harry had just kicked off into the air. As usual Lee Jordan was doing the commentary, but Professor McGonagall was nowhere to be seen. Odd.

'No. Look there! There's McGonagall.' Ron pointed out, 'What's she doing down there?'

This soon became evident. McGonagall had come to cancel the match. Draco leapt over the rope limply hanging by the edge of the pitch and ran over to Harry, who had touched down next to McGonagall.

'What! You can't cancel Quidditch, Professor! What about the Cup?' Wood was saying.

'Oh shut up Wood! Some things are more important than bally Quidditch!' McGonagall spat, with just a hint of frustration entering her voice.

'Get back to your common rooms. Now! Potter, you'd best come with me. Weasley, Malfoy, you two too. There's something you'll want to see. I'm afraid it may come as a bit of a shock.' She led them back into the castle and into the hospital wing. They walked through the great oak doors and saw what they least wanted to see.

'Hermione!' Draco exclaimed, his voice drenched in sorrow. It was _his _fault- if they'd gone to get Hermione before the match. If he'd insisted... Draco stood there, not saying anything. His bottom lip trembled and his eyes glistened over with tears but only someone who had been watching very closely and knew him well could tell that Draco was in any way upset. You didn't show emotion. It was a weakness.

That night, they went to visit Hagrid. Hidden beneath Harry's old invisibility cloak, they crept out of the castle, down across the lawn on which the dew was just beginning to settle and over to Hagrid's hut. After checking no-one was about to see a mysterious disembodied arm, Harry stuck his arm out of the cloak and knocked smartly on Hagrid's door. Rat-a-tat-tat. The door opened slowly and they found a crossbow pointing at them.

'Who's there?'

Of course- they were still invisible. Draco quickly dropped the cloak from them and Hagrid's face lit up in a smile of relief.

'Oh. It's you. I've bin expectin'... I've bin expectin'... Never min'. Come in.'

Hagrid seemed very nervous, or distracted, Draco thought, he forgot to put tea bags in the mugs he gave them, and he seemed to have forgotten the knife for the fruitcake he put out.

'Did you hear about Hermione?' asked Harry.

'Yeah, I heard alrigh'.'

At that moment came a loud knock on the door. Hagrid gestured for them to put the cloak back on, and when that was done he opened the door.

'Good evening, Hagrid.' It was professor Dumbledore and in behind him

'Uncle Cornelius!' Draco whispered under his breath. Ron seemed shocked, Harry clueless.

'Hagrid, Hagrid, Hagrid. Rum business. Very rum indeed. Got to act, four attacks. I've got to take you.'

'Take me? Take me where?'

'Where, surely not. Not Azkaban?'

Before the man in the pinstriped robes could answer, there was a loud knock at the door. Before Hagrid even had a chance to answer it, however, Lucius Malfoy walked in.

'Ahh, Fudge, you're here. Good. '

'Get outta my House.' Roared Hagrid. Malfoy senior replied with words that his son would always be ashamed of.

'House, so- you call this a house. Well, be assured my good man that I take absolutely no pleasure being in your.. Yes, quite. I merely called at the school and was informed that the headmaster was here.' He turned to Dumbledore.

'I'm afraid, Albus,' he said with a barely concealed smile, 'that the other governors and I rather feel that you have been, losing your touch. Here' he produced a large scroll, 'is an order for your suspension. You'll find all the signatures on it.'

'Suspending Dumbledore?' yelled Hagrid, 'with him gone the muggle-borns won't stand a chance.'

Draco thought this was probably his father's plan.

'Well, any final words?' Fudge asked, as he motioned towards the door.

'Help.' Dumbledore took the opportunity to say, 'will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.' This was somewhat mystical, but Hagrid's final comments were far clearer.

'If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff. All they'd 'ave ter do is follow the spiders. That'd see 'em right. Oh!' he added as an afterthought, as he was walking out of the door, 'someone'll have to feed Fang when I'm away.'

Fudge seemed rather confused at this. Finally, the door slammed to and the boys were once more alone.

'Uncle Cornelius!' Ron suddenly burst out, still apparently in shock, 'the minister for magic's your _uncle_?'

'Well, no, not really.' Began Draco, 'He's just one of those people who you're brought up to call uncle that's all- you know the type, friend of the family, comes round for dinner most weeks, that sort of thing.'

Ron just shook his head in silent astonishment. Harry filled the silence.

'Never mind the minister- your old man's a real piece of work, Draco, getting rid of Dumbledore, doesn't he realise that the muggle-borns will be killed because of it?'

'Unfortunately,' Draco said, rather archly, 'he's probably counting on it.'

Before the full horror of this statement could really sink in, Harry found himself distracted by a whimpering sound in the corner.

'What is it Ron?'

'Spiders. Don't like spiders.' He pointed at a column of spiders, marching across the floor and out of one of the cracks in the window, scurrying quickly like an army in a semi-organised rout.

'Spiders!' Harry burst out, 'Hagrid said to follow the spiders. You coming, Ron?'

'Don't like spiders.'

'Oh, stop being such a big girl's blouse.'

In a desperate attempt to prove he wasn't afraid, Ron joined Draco and Harry as they went deep into the forest. They weren't two hundred yards in when they heard a strange coughing noise. It got louder. And closer. Draco had no idea what the noise was, neither did Harry, Ron on the other hand...

'Harry, you won't believe this! It's our car!'

'What, the one you flew here in?'

'Yeah that's the ARRGHH!' Ron never finished his sentence, as he was surprised from behind by a spider the size of a carthorse. Very soon all three of them were being dragged off into the undergrowth, each by a massive spider. Before long, they were in a giant coliseum of webs and suddenly there emerged a great spider.

'Who is it?'

'Erm,we're friends of Hagrid.' Harry started. Ron was busy looking fearfully about them and as for Draco, he was wondering how to get away from the terrible spiders.

'Hagrid has never sent men to us before.'

'He's in trouble. Up at the school, there have been attacks. They think Hagrid was responsible.'

The huge spider seemed to laugh.

'Hagrid. No it was not he. They caught him feeding a monster in the castle, but it was not the monster of the chamber.'

'Which is..?'

'We spiders do not speak its name. I have not even told Hagrid of it. It is an ancient evil, one which we fear above all others. I was not it. Hagrid brought me up in a broom cupboard, the body of the dead girl was found in a bathroom.'

'Right. Thank-you for your time. We'll just go then.'

'Go? I think not. My sons and daughters do not hurt Hagrid on my command, but I will not deny them fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into our lair. Goodbye Friends of Hagrid.'

Draco was scared, he hadn't thought of any spells that would work against so many spiders, nor had Harry. Ron on the other hand, was so frightened he could barely think at all. The spiders advanced menacingly, clicking their giant pincers. Then came a noise and a great flood of light. The car had followed them. It charged down the slope and the spiders went scurrying out of its way. The three boys had scarcely bundled themselves inside, however, when the spiders returned, angrier than before.

Suddenly, and all of its own accord, the car started to reverse. Soon it was accelerating away, over the rooty floor of the forest and back towards the castle, back towards safety. They had lost the spiders. When the car reached the edge of the forest it stopped abruptly.

'I think that's our cue to leave.' The boys got out and headed back to the castle.

'Great. What'd we learn there?' complained Ron.

'That Hagrid didn't do it. Hagrid was innocent.'

The boys didn't sleep that well. Neville's soft snores didn't keep them awake- they never did, but thoughts of huge, vengeful spiders certainly did. They each lay there, thinking about that evenong's events.

'Draco?'

'Yeah, Harry?'

'You know that girl who died? Aragog said she died in a bathroom. What if she'd never left?'

'What! Surely not. Not- _Moaning Myrtle_?'


	13. Chapter 13

The next evening, Draco was reading the book on charms he had gotten the Christmas before last. It was really enjoyable, for a textbook-it covered the theory of charms to a greater depth than Professor Flitwick did in his lessons and suddenly certain aspects were becoming clear. Now Draco understood _why_, not just _how_. In between the sections on theory were little practical things to do. Te last one Draco had come across was a charm to produce flowers out of the end of his wand. He tried it, and found he had a vast bunch of elegant flowers that he had seen before but couldn't name. For some reason, it made him think of Hermione, lying there, in the hospital wing, without even any flowers by her. He decided to do something about that.

'Harry.' Draco hissed. 'Can I borrow your you-know-what?' He was in the common room after all, and some secrecy wouldn't go amiss.

'Yeah, sure. But later though.'

Draco nodded and returned to his book, which he carried on reading on the sofa by the fire until Percy Weasley ordered all the second years to bed.

Draco lay in the dorm, enjoying the twilight for another good hour and a half, before he slipped quietly out of bed, got dressed and sneaked over to Harry's bed. Harry was still awake. Draco prodded him on the shoulder to get his attention and asked if he could have the cloak. Harry, sleepily, said it was on top of his trunk, under the bed. Draco took it out and put it on. He slowly opened the door to avoid it making the tell-tale creak that would let the whole tower know that someone from his dorm was out of bed. Creeping downstairs he had a quick look around the common room. Good. No seventh years staying up late to do work. He snuck over to the portrait hole and pushed it open. The absence of the squawks of "who's there?" told him the Fat Lady wasn't in her portrait. He'd just have to hope she'd be there to let him back in.

Silently Draco crept through the sleeping corridors and down the dark stairs to the hospital wing. The door was shut fast.

'_Alohomora_.'

The door was open and Draco went in, silent as the grave, hoping desperately not to be caught by Madame Pomfrey. She didn't seem to be about, so Draco went quietly up to Hermione's bedside and sat down.

'Oh Hermione. You had to go and leave us, didn't you? You're here and now I'm the brains of the outfit. A sad look-out if ever there was , I know you can't hear any of this, but I thought I'd bring you some flowers. They'll still be fresh when you wake up. I heard Professor Sprout say that the mandrakes are nearly ready. Then you'll be back and can tell us what's in the chamber. Because, you know what Hermione.' Although it was pointless he leaned towards her to whisper in her ear, 'You know what, I reckon that you knew what the monster was. That's why you had that mirror, isn't it. Coming back from the library, knowing exactly what it was and then it gets you. Now Dumbledore's gone. Fudge has taken Hagrid and we've got exams coming up. Don't know why I mentioned that, it's not as if you've got any more time to prepare now, is it?' Draco chuckled at himself and moved to grasp Hermione's hand, as if to comfort her.

'What's this, Hermione?' he said, feeling something in her hand. 'It's a bit of paper. Can't read it in this light. You don't mind if I take it back to the tower to read it there do you? No? Sorry if it's personal. Oh well. See you round Hermione.'

With a quick wave of his wand and a short incantation a vast bouquet blossomed out of the end of his wand. He put it in the vase on the cabinet next to her bed and crept off into the night.

Morning broke early in the second year dorm that day, with Draco waking Harry and Ron up as early as it was light enough to read. He held out the bit of paper proudly.

'What's that?'

'I went to see Hermione last night, she had this in her hand.'

'What, a bit of horrible out parchment?'

'Yes. She's written something on it, see.'

'Pipes? Why'd she write pipes on something torn out of a book?'

'Easy. Read what's written on the rest of the page. She'd worked it out. She knew what was in the Chamber.'

'What- do you think she meant?'

'Yes, exactly- the monster's a basilisk! That's why Harry can hear it and no-one else can, because you're a parselmouth.'

'It says here a basilisk kills by looking people in the eye. How comes no-one's died then, explain that clever.' Said Ron.

'Easy,' Draco smiled back, 'No-one did look at it directly. Mrs Norris saw it in the puddle of water, Colin through his camera, Finch-Fletchley saw it through Nearly-headless-Nick. Nick took the full blast, but he couldn't die again, could he? I mean, he's already dead. Hermione had that mirror with her. I bet she and that Clearwater girl were using it to look around corners.'

'Alright, but how is a bloody great snake getting around the castle?'

'Hermione's answered that one too.' Said Harry, with a hint of awe in his voice.

'What, pipes? You think it's using the plumbing?' said Ron, incredulously.

Well, yeah. We know that Myrtle got killed in a bathroom, don't we. We know that the things using the plumbing to get around.'

'You don't think the entrance to the chamber is in the girls loos do you?'

'It's the obvious solution.'

Come on.' Said Harry, glancing at his watch, 'We'd better be off, we've got potions now and I think Snape will murder us if we're late through the portrait hole.'

The three boys hurried off and were accompanied to their lesson by the ever-pleasant Professor Snape.

'Today we will be brewing Torpidity Salve. It is an unguent commonly used to keep animals calm or when performing evasive surgery where you want to keep something still. Another effective way of doing this is to read them your potions essays. This week they were as usual mediocre at best. I would advise you to pay attention this time, as any contact with the salve will see you in the hospital wing for three weeks, which would unfortunately cause you to miss your potions exam. You would then score nothing for it, which would be bad. For some of you though, ' Snape said with a malevolent grin coming to his mouth, 'that may represent an improvement.'

The lesson went as well as could be expected, with Draco just helping Neville to avoid blowing up his cauldron, a swift manoeuvre that gained Draco four house points at the same time as Neville lost ten. AS the lesson ended a terrible sound echoed throughout the school

'_All students to their House common room immediately, please. All staff to the second floor corridor.'_

There had been another attack. Armed with the knowledge of what was in the chamber, the three hurried along back to the second floor corridor. They soon spotted the conglomeration of staff, centered about the wall on which the heir had first announced himself. AS they approached they heard the final snippet of the conversation.

'...Ginny Weasley...Well, that's settled then. Gilderoy, you will enter the Chamber and seek out the monster.'

The knot of staff broke up and each went their separate ways. At last the boys could approach and read the new writing on the wall.

_Her skeleton shall lie in the Chamber forever._

'You don't think that's why they mentioned Ginny, do you?' asked Ron. Draco hadn't the heart to say anything, so he simply nodded. Oddly, whilst clearly upset, Ron didn't break down at this news.

'Well, come on then. We've got to get her. We know what's down there, we know where the entrance is, what are we waiting for?'

'Lockhart's going down. He may be useless, but every extra wand is going to be invaluable. Besides, he might cast a useful spell.'

'Yeah, by accident.' Draco scoffed. Nonetheless, the next ten minutes saw them enter Lockhart's office.

'Hullo there lads, what can I do for you?' asked Lockhart. He seemed to be packing his trunks and suitcases. Everyone looked at the suitcases already piled in the centre of the office. Draco raised an interrogative eyebrow.

'Oh, this. Urgent call, I'm afraid boys, got to dash. I'm needed in. I'm needed in .I'm needed in Egypt Terrible case of an escaped Mummy, you know how it is.'

'What about my sister?' asked Ron, angrily.

'Well..' Lockhart blustered, but he couldn't think of anything. 'I don't know anything about the chamber. Couldn't tell you where it is even.'

'Don't worry about that, we know.' Draco smiled maliciously at the incompetent in front of him.

'Ahh. Well.'

'What about all those things you did in your books?' interrupted Ron.

'Books can be misleading. They wouldn't have sold half as well if I written about the actual witches and wizards who'd done all those things, I mean, they weren't even photogenic or anything.'

'Is there anything you can do?' asked Harry.

'Well, yes, now you come to mention it, I've got something of a knack for memory charms, otherwise all those witches and wizards would have gone blabbing-I'd never have sold another book. Im afraid I'll have to do the same to you three.' He whipped out his wand and looked up, to find three wands, one admittedly more than slightly broken, pointing straight at him.

'Ahh. So. It's like that is it?'

'Yes.'

They marched Lockhart to the second floor girl's bathroom.

'Boys, that the ladies.' Lockhart pointed out. They ignored him and walked straight in. For some reason, Lockhart had shut his eyes.

Harry put his finger to his lips when he spotted Myrtle, then beckoned her to come over. She stood, well, floated, in front of Lockhart.

'Professor, you can open your eyes, you know.' He did.

'Arggh!'

The boys and Myrtle burst out into a fit of giggles. When eventually they had calmed down, Draco was the first to speak.

'Myrtle?'

'Yes?'

'I want to ask you how you died.'

'Oh, it was terrible. I was hiding away because Olive Hornby had teased me about my glasses. I was in that very cubicle,' she said, pointing it out with a pale finger. 'Then I heard this voice speaking. It must have been some silly made-up language because it was all hissing but I could tell that it was a boy speaking, so I decided to tell him to push off. This is the ladies after all. Then, I saw this great big pair of yellow eyes, over by the sinks and I died.'

'That must have come as a bit of a surprise.' Said Lockhart, amiably.

'You think?!' Myrtle screeched back angrily, before heading back to her cubicle to carry on moping.

Meanwhile, Harry was looking at the sinks. Then out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a little serpent, scratched onto one of the taps.

'Oh, that one doesn't work.' Said Draco, as he saw Harry trying to turn it. 'I tried to get some water out of it when we were brewing the polyjuice potion.'

'I think this is it. The entrance.'

'What?'

'Yeah, look, there's a little snake engraved on the side of the tap.'

'Speak to it in parseltongue, Harry, maybe it'll open up.'

Harry did. Slowly and silently, the sink sunk down out of the way, to reveal a pipe large enough for a man to slide down.

'Well done, boys. You won't be needing me now, will you, so I'll just.'

'Go.' Draco sneered, 'I think not. You're going down first, after all what if there's something dangerous down there?'

With Draco's wand in the small of his back, Lockhart had no choice but to agree. He grabbed the outside of the pipe and swung his legs inside. With a vicious little push from Draco, he disappeared down into the darkness. A little while later a faint

'It's alright down here. Smells a bit though.' Came floating up the pipe, and the three boys threw themselves down it. After all, if they were to save Ginny, every second counted.

'_Lumos_. Blimey it's dark down here.' Said Ron.

'Not half. Looks like the heir of Slytherin doesn't like housework as much as he likes attacking people.' Commented Harry.

They walked down the dark tunnel. In places Lockhart had to duck. After the fourth such place, there was a giant shape.

'Eyes shut!' Harry called. They did, not daring even to breathe, they stood there trying not to make a noise, listening intently before anyone said anything.

'Don't you think it would have moved by now?'

'Shut up, Draco.'

'No, its fine. See, it's just an old snake skin.'

'Whatever shed that must be at least 20 foot long.'

Lockhart made a strange noise and his knees gave way. Draco rolled his eyes. Suddenly lockhart was up. He dived at Ron. They both went flying. Lockhart recovered first and grabbed Ron's wand.

'The journey ends here boys but don't worry, the world will know our story. How I arrived too late to save the girl, how you three lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories.'

Draco reacted first. As a bolt of light came towards him he dived straight at Lockhart. The first spell went zooming over his head. Lockhart cast again, just as Draco hit the cold, dark, clammy floor. Lockhart tried again. This time Draco was a sitting duck. He couldn't move and not even Lockhart could miss. Draco braced himself for a hit that never came. He looked up in time to see Lockhart go flying across the room accompanied by an ominous rumble. Draco rolled away from the noise as the ceiling collapsed. He was with Ron, the remains of Lockhart and. Where was Harry?

'Harry? Harry? You OK?'

'Yeah. I'm fine. I'll go forwards from here and find Ginny, you two dig a hole so we can get back through, then come and find us. Remember, any movement and shut your eyes.'

Draco had a look at Lockhart. He was still alive, but heavily dazed. Ron's wand had exploded in his face, leaving him clueless as to who he was. Draco smiled at the sight of a clueless Lockhart lying half-unconscious in the tunnel.

'Right. You heard Harry, let's get going.' Draco ordered.

'OK.'

They dug through the rock with their bare hands, shifting the pile out of the way. In the background a faint sound cheered them up, and they started to work even harder. Despite a large lump of rock falling on Ron's leg they made good progress. Already they were about halfway through the pile. Ron however was beginning to slow, as the rock fall had left him with a limp. The clueless Lockhart in the corner was beginning to come to. As he did he asked more and more questions more and more frequently. Draco was getting annoyed. Taking a smaller rock, he lobbed a rock at Lockhart's head. If he'd been playing cricket, the batsman would have been run out for sure, but as it was, Lockhart's head made a sickening crunch and the bumbling man fell silent.

Soon there was a passage through. Draco cautiously walked forwards, right up to the entrance of the chamber itself, an impressive bronze portal which lay ajar.

'Come on. Harry must have gone this way.' Draco yelled back to where Ron was, some minutes behind him.

As Draco pushed the door further open, a terrible sight met his eyes. The Basilisk of Slytherin. It lunged at Harry. Draco jumped down into the main chamber itself. He had no time to be impressed. He ran, ran, ran at the huge snake. Just before he reached it, it fell down dead. Draco saw that Harry had impaled it with a bright sword.

'Harry, you've done it! It's dead!'

'I'm afraid so. But your friend has paid the ultimate price.' Said an unfamiliar voice.

Draco spun round.

'Who the hell are you?'

'I, boy, am Tom Marvolo Riddle. The most powerful wizard who has ever lived.'

Draco smirked. The shear arrogance of the man was unbelievable.

'What about Merlin?' He asked, just to puncture the insufferable sense of confidence the other figure projected. Riddle ignored him, turning instead to taunt Harry.

'You're dead, boy. Look. Even the bird knows it. You see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying.'

With a final look up at the figure, Harry pulled the basilisk fang from his arm. He desperately lunged towards the diary. As the fang pierced it, Riddle let out a horrible scream. It was joined a moment later by another scream from another, more familiar, voice.

'Ginny.'

Ron had arrived and ran straight towards his sister who had come round and was starting to cry.

'I. I tried to tell you. At breakfast. But.P. was the. There. I couldn't s s say it in front him.'

Ron had embraced Ginny in a tight hug.

'It's alright. Your fine now, we're here.' But Ginny carried on.

'It was me. I opened the Chamber. But I s-swear I didn't mean to. R-Riddle made me. '

'It's alright, he's gone. The basilisk is dead.' Harry said.

'I'm going to be expelled.' Ginny wept. 'I've wanted to come to Hogwarts since Bill came, and now I'll have to leave and...What'll Mum say?' Ginny continued to weep silently. She barely noticed as Ron and Draco picked her up and led her and Harry out of the Chamber. She didn't seem to notice as Fawkes flew them up through the pipe and back into Myrtle's bathroom. She didn't notice as Myrtle offered Harry a post-mortem spot in her cubicle, nor as Fawkes led them to professor McGonagall's office.

Harry knocked on the door, and pushed it slowly open.


	14. Chapter 14

A great scream of joy arose as a large woman with ginger hair looked over her shoulder at the noise from behind her.

'Ginny!'

'Mum!'

'How did you save her? Thank-you! Thank-you!' Mrs Weasley said, as she gave Harry a hug so hard Draco was sure one of his ribs must break. Eventually, she let go and Harry told the story. For the next quarter of an hour, the only voice that could be heard in the office was Harry's. After the tale was told, Ginny left with her parents to go to the hospital wing on the suggestion of Professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall left at the same time to order a feast from the kitchens. The elderly Professor smiled down kindly at them.

'My, my boys, we do seem to have a knack for getting ourselves into trouble don't we, In finding out who did this, you seem to have broken almost every rule in the school except for. Well. Yes. It only seems fitting therefore that I award you with special awards for services to the school. Oh, and I think two hundred points apiece for saving Ms Weasley should be about right, don't you?' Draco was in shock. He scarcely noticed as Dumbledore explained Harry's ability to speak parseltongue had been passed to him by Lord Voldemort. He was even more surprised when he heard that the young Riddle person was Lord Voldemort. Nothing however, surpassed the surprise he felt when his father walked through the door.

'Ahh, Good evening, Lucius.' Dumbledore said pleasantly.

'So, you have seen fit to return to Hogwarts.'

'Yes, well, when the other governors heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed, they saw fit to reinstate me.'

Lucius Malfoy seemed slightly disturbed by this, at least to Draco, who could see under his father's carefully constructed mask better than anyone else in the room. The older Malfoy tried another tack.

'Well, have you caught the culprit?'

'We have.'

'And...?'

'It was the same person as last time, but this time acting through the means of this diary.' Dumbledore said pointedly.

'Yes, how very _lucky_ that it was discovered. After all, how terrible it would be for the young Ms Weasley to take all the blame.'

'Quite so, Lucius. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise.'

'Well, good day Dumbledore.'

'Leaving already Lucius. Not even going to congratulate your son on his part in all this.'

Lucius was walking out of the door, but on hearing this he turned his back for a parthian shot.

'I have no son.'

And he left.

'What's that all about?' Harry asked, 'of course he's got a son.'

Draco blushed.

'Well, guys. I'd appreciate it if you keep this quiet. He doesn't recognise me as his son. Disowned me. Chucked me out of the family.'

'What, why?' Draco looked more embarrassed then he ever had before.

'Because I was sorted into Gryffindor.'

'So, where are you living. Surely not with.'

'No. My uncle adopted me.'

Draco didn't want to say any more on the subject- a fact that Harry and Ron missed. He was saved from answering any more questions however, by Professor Dumbledore, who told them it was time to go to the feast.

When they got to the great hall, they found themselves the only people there wearing robes. The rest of the school were in their nice clean pyjamas. Well, that wasn't quite true. A few minutes in Hermione came in with the rest of the formerly petrified. Draco stood up and rushed over to her, his mouth full of sticky toffee pudding. He opened his arms wide and gave her a great hug.

'Great to have you back, Hermione.'

'Thanks, it's great to be back but where have you been? You're filthy!' She looked down at her robes, which now had a dark green stain going down the front of them.

'Sorry about that.' Draco looked incredibly guilty for a moment. Then they both started to laugh. When they had gotten back to Harry and Ron Draco began to explain the events of the day. He stopped only when Professor McGonagall stood up to announce that as a special treat, all exams had been cancelled. Only Hermione seemed despondent at the news. The rest of the summer passed quickly. Draco made the squad for the Gryffindor cricket team, but didn't get to play any matches- the one match he was supposed to be playing in got rained off- and all too soon the reunited quartet found themselves on the train home. They sat alone in a compartment as the train pulled out of Hogsmeade and began to speed south towards London. Draco thought about heading back to his uncle, who had agreed to meet him at the station. Suddenly he realised something.

'Hermione, there's something I haven't told you.'


	15. Chapter 15

The weeks passed. After hearing about Ron's disastrous attempt to make a phone call to Harry, Draco didn't try either. But when it came round to his birthday, he did send Harry a large cake and a couple of muggle books- they couldn't get Harry into trouble with his aunt and uncle. After sending it off, Draco settled down for dinner with his uncle in front of the new television that his uncle had just brought.

'Clever, the things these muggles come up with, you know.'

'Muggles!' Draco scoffed, ' what are they good for? Muggleborns, fine, at least they've got magic, but muggles.' He shook his head.

'Now, listen here boy! There's nothing gin the world that you don't owe to muggles.'

'Why?'

'Lucius will have told you all about Old Septimus.'

'What, the one who basically controlled the minister for magic and the rest of the ministry?'

'That's the one. Well, did he tell you about how Septimus spent all the family wealth?'

'No, he didn't mention that.'

'Well, his son Clodius was left with absolutely nothing. Had to join the muggle navy to avoid his creditors.'

'What, you mean he was bankrupt.'

'Precisely, all of the family wealth had been spent on bribes. Even the Manor had been mortgaged. Well. He was on a ship called _HMS Centurion_. A young Lieutenant.'

'Never heard of it.'

'Well, it doesn't feature much in wizard history. But you've heard of Charles VI, right?'

'Of course, last wizard king.'

'Well, when he died there were loads of wars about his succession. During these, Britain declared war on Spain. Now, Spain's wealth came from its vast empire in South America, and it was all transported back to Spain by ship. Now, the Centurion's captain was told to sail with a squadron to go and capture these galleons. Most of the squadron sank before they got there, the casualty rate was huge-only ten percent of the men who left survived, but Clodius was one of these. There was only the _Centurion_ left by the time they got round into the Pacific. After a long time, they had captured many ships and then they went on to take the Acapulco Galleon. It was stacked full of treasure. Now, under the system of prize money, the value of the ship and its contents were kept by the sailors, when they got them back to England. Clodius share came to at least forty thousand pounds. So in many ways, Draco, it's entirely due to muggles that the Malfoy's have any money or influence at all. So remember that next time you go mouthing off about them.'

Draco was slightly humbled by this, but that didn't make him feel too bad for long. He got some good news from Ron, whose Dad had won the Daily Prophet Galleon prize draw. Apparently there'd be enough money at the end of the day for Ron to get a new wand. Hermione was on a holiday in France with her parents. Draco had been writing letters to his friends for most of the summer, and already he had planned to meet them all in the Leaky Cauldron before buying his school stuff, just like last year. That plan was changed, when Hedwig flew through his bedroom window one evening.

_Dear Draco,_

_I've just run away from the Dursleys. Need help, can I come and stay at yours?_

_Harry._

It had been scribbled very quickly; it didn't say where he was, or anything. Immediately Draco ran downstairs to his uncle, who was relaxing on the sofa.

'I've just got this letter from Harry, he needs somewhere to stay – is it alright if he comes over? Can we pick him up?'

'Yeah, alright kiddo. Do you know where he is?'

'No. He didn't say, but he's probably near his aunt and uncle's house.'

'Still not much use. Write him a letter, I'll go and get changed, and when he's told us we can apparate to him and bring him back here. After all, with Sirius Black on the loose...'

Draco hadn't even thought about that but he did as his uncle had suggested and wrote Harry a quick letter. He sent it off with Hedwig. Half an hour later, the answer came back.

_Waiting at the playground opposite St Grog's Primary School, Little Whinging, Surrey. See you soon._

Draco handed the note to his uncle, who by now had changed into some very respectable evening wear. He read it, proffered his arm to Draco and disappeared. Draco and Noctifer reappeared in the playground, standing on top of the swings.

'Oh well, not bad over such a long way.' Said Noctifer as he jumped down. Harry turned round with a start. He had been looking at something.

'It's you!' Harry's face lit up as he saw Draco coming over.

'Your uncle, I presume.'

'Noctifer Malfoy at your service.'

'Harry Potter.' Harry offered his hand to Draco's uncle, who took it and shook it.

'Got everything you need?'

'Yeah, I've had my trunk packed all week.'

'Right grab you things, then we'll be off.'

'How? I didn't see you arrive.'

'Course not! We apparated down. Come on that's it, just grab my arm and we'll be off.' Within a few gut-wrenching seconds, they were back.

'Wow. That was quick.' Said Harry

'First time you've apparated I assume.' Commented Noctifer.

'So that's what it was. I've heard people talk about it.'

'Yeah, well we had to come quickly, after all, there's a murderer on the loose.'

'Who?'

'Sirius Black. They've got the muggles out looking for him and everything.'

'What. Oh. Yeah. I think I saw something on TV about an escaped prisoner.'

'Yeah, they've told the muggles he's carrying a gun. Far more dangerous than that of course.'

'Really?'

'Oh yeah, he didn't just murder a couple of people, Black didn't killed thirteen people at once, just one curse. Had to be disguised as a gas explosion if I remember the papers correctly.'

'Thirteen people. Wow, what a _loon_.' Said Draco.

'Just remember that loon's your cousin Draco.'

'What Draco's cousin's a mass murderer? ' Harry turned to face Draco, 'Better stop teasing you then, you might call in the family to have be killed.'

'No need to worry about that Harry,' Noctifer rejoined, 'If I remember correctly, I think he's your godfather.'

Now it was Draco's turn to gloat.

'You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family Hazza, I'm only related to him, look's like he was a friend of your family! I knew there was something dodgy about you.' Draco said, sticking out his tongue.

'Now, now boys, play nicely.' Noctifer chuckled. He hadn't had this much fun since his own time at Hogwarts.

Draco showed Harry round the house quickly before heading back downstairs.

'Come on, if we hurry we'll catch the beginning of _Horizon_.'

'What do you want to watch a documentary for?' Harry scoffed.

'It's fascinating seeing how muggles get along without magic. Besides, it's on TV, who cares what it's about?' Draco explained.

When the programme ended, Noctifer sent the two boys to bed.

'It's going to be a busy day tomorrow, we've got to go shopping for school stuff and all sorts. I take it you're coming Harry?'

'Yeah.'

'Then I'll see you bright and early tomorrow. I'll knock on your door when it's time for you to get up.'

That knock came all too early in Draco's opinion. He groaned and rolled over in his bed. A second knock came and Draco levered himself slowly out of bed. Surely it wasn't morning already. But it was.

A quick meal of bacon sandwiches set them up for their day's shopping.

'Right, first stop Gringotts. How are you dealing with the money Harry, you alright? I mean, if your aunt and uncle usually..'

'No, I'm fine, thanks.' Harry cut Noctifer off before he could finish his sentence, but the older man didn't seem to mind.

'Right, so Gringotts for you too I take it. We can go together.'

They entered the great bank and Noctifer marched to the chief cashier at the far end of the hall.

'Ah, good day my fine fellow, Mr Harry Potter and myself would like to access our vaults if you would be so kind.'

'Ah. Mr Malfoy, of course.I should be only too happy to escort you. Bogrod. Take over the desk!' The little goblin hopped down off of his stool and beckoned them over to the cart. I trust that you both have your keys?'

Noctifer produced his with a smile and Harry did likewise. The goblin gestured for them to board the crazy cart, and as soon as they had done so he set it going.

'Draco, I thought these things were one speed only. Last time I was here I'm sure it went slower.'

'Well, who knows what perks come with being the chief cashier? Does seem quite fast though.' Draco agreed.

They came to Harry's vault first. Despite knowing that it wsan't exactly polite, Draco couldn't resist the urge to have a look inside as he sat in the cart with his uncle. What he saw surprised him. It was full of galleons and sickles and even a couple of knuts. That was a lot of money, not even his father had so much in his Gringotts' vault.

The cart carried on lower and faster than before, until they got to Noctifer's vault.

'Vault 928. Your key if you please, sir.' Noctifer handed over the key to the goblin, who put it in the lock and turned it once. The great iron door opened wide, only for them to be met by another door. This was guarded by two bored-looking goblins who stood to attention and saluted before opening the new door. The vault inside was huge, there was no other word for it, and it was stuffed full of more gold than either of the boys had ever seen in their life. Draco's jaw dropped. How had his uncle got his hands on so much gold? Noctifer caught sight of Draco's face.

'I'll tell you about it when your seventeen.' He said. Clearly something unusual had gone on here. Draco's uncle leant forwards and scooped a load of coins into his bag.

'That ought to do for a while.' Noctifer said, before they headed back to the surface.

'Flourish and Blotts first for your new books, I think boys.' Said Noctifer.

In the bookshop Harry was surprised to see Ron and Hermione.

'I thought you two were abroad?' he asked.

'Nah, got back couple of nights ago, sorry I didn't send you that letter, but Errol wasn't too well. Think that flight from Egypt might not have done him too much good.' Ron ended quietly, to try and avoid being overheard by Mrs Weasley, who was standing nearby, ordering a load of books for her extensive family. Hermione it seemed had already got her books, and more besides if the bulging bags she was carrying was anything to go by.

'Got enough books there, Hermione?' Draco asked.

'Nice to see you too, Draco.' Hermione replied sniffily. 'I had a great summer thanks, how was yours.'

'Alright I suppose, got all the holiday work done?'

'Oh yes, Icompletely rewrote the history of magic essay to include some information I found out when I was in the south of France, fascinating stuff- but I've gone a foot over the length limit- do you suppose Binns'll mind?'

'Nah, Binns won't mind, I think he loves all that stuff really. Besides its Binns, he's a walkover.'

'A walkthrough, you could say.' Interrupted Harry.

Hermione groaned at the awful joke and said she wanted to go and buy herself an owl. Ron, who needed something for his rat left to but not before the four had agreed to meet up in Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour in half an hour.

Forty minutes later, Hary and Draco were to be found in _Quality Quidditch Supplies_ ogling a new broom. It was called the Firebolt.

'Look at the balance on that, every twig clipped just so, handmade I'll bet, not like anything that Nimbus turns out.' Said an elderly wizard in a deerstalker cap. His opinion was being treated as gospel by the band of young boys who had gathered about him.

'..not to mention they've finally created a fast broom that can turn.' said a witch dressed in green, ' probably the best broom yet. Supposed to handle like a Waxwing and move quicker than Fulbert the Fearful's first curry.'

They were swept up in the finely-crafted beauty of the stick, until Draco happened to glance at his watch.

'Come on, Harry, we were supposed to be meeting Ron and Hermione ten minutes ago.' They left the shop in a hurry and ran to the ice-cream parlour.

'Nice of you two to join us.' Said Ron. 'I think the adults have gone to the Cauldron for a drink. But have you seen Hermione's owl?' He said sarcastically. Hermione didn't have an owl. She had bought herself a pussy.

'He's called Crookshanks.' Hermione told the boys. 'Isn't he wonderful?'

Draco wasn't entirely sure what to say, the truth, that it looked to him like a ball of orange fluff on legs, was unlikely to go down well and as for saying that it was a lovely cat, Draco couldn't bring himself to do it.

'Yes, very nice.' Draco said eventually. This seemed to please Hermione who went back to babying her cat.

'So, Harry.' Ron began, ' is it true? Did you really blow-up your aunt?'

'Blow-up your aunt? Harry, is that why you left your aunt and uncle's?'

'Yes. I just sort of, well, lost control.'

'And blew up your aunt!?'

'She's not really _my _aunt; she's my uncle's sister. Besides, she deserved it.'

'Harry,' said Hermione, 'Do you know how lucky you are not to have been expelled?'

'Honestly, I think I'm lucky not to have been arrested.'

As the adults returned, the conversation came to an untimely end, not to be resumed until they were safely on the Hogwarts' express.

They had found themselves arriving at the platform slightly late and had only been able to find one compartment with even a modicum of privacy. In it sat a sleeping man, who, from his luggage, appeared to be Professor R. J. Lupin.

'What do you reckon he's teaching?'

'Well, there's only one post vacant isn't there? He must be taking the dark arts job.'

'Blimey, looks like one half decent curse would...' Ron fell silent and drew his hand across his neck.

'You don't reckon someone's already..?'

'No. Look, he's still breathing. But he's sound out.'

With a jolt, the train started.


	16. Chapter 16

Five hours further down the track, the train jolted again, this time coming to a complete stop. The lights went out. The compartment went cold. Suddenly the carriage jerked from side to side. The feeling of coldness grew and with it a feeling of sadness, of loneliness, of despair. Draco looked up. A thing was floating down the corridor. It placed a scaly claw on the door and dragged it open. It entered the compartment.

_Draco? What are you doing here?_ Mocked his father's voice.

_I thought I told you that you couldn't have food unless you've been a good boy. What have you done to deserve it today?_

That memory faded and was replaced by another.

_You're not trying hard enough Draco. By your age I could do far better than that. You're not a squib, are you? I couldn't love a squib. _

Draco tried to block it out, but the memories kept coming. Then, just as soon as they had started, they stopped. Draco looked up, and saw Professor Lupin standing in front of him.

'Here, have this.' A rather hoarse and raspy voice croaked out. In the man's hand was some chocolate.

'Go on, it'll help.' The Professor encouraged. Draco took the chocolate and put it in his mouth. As the taste spread he began to feel calmer, more relaxed, the whole experience began to fade from the vivid continuing experience into a recent memory, to be filed away with the passage of time. Lupin gave some chocolate to Harry as soon as Hermione had woken him up, and then went off to find the driver. They had arrived at the station before he had returned, where they transferred themselves into the horseless carriages that awaited to drive them up to the castle. The weather was threatening rain and a few spits and spots were all that those in the first few carriages suffered before they arrived safely in the castle. Those in the last carriages got wetter still, but were dry by the time that Professor Flitwick carried in the Sorting Hat. The first years however were not dry at all. It was now raining so hard that it looked as if they had all fallen in the lake. Hagrid alone looked dry. A water repelling charm probably, thought Draco.

He was still pondering how Hagrid had managed to do this without the use of a wand when the sorting ended. Professor Dumbledore stood up to give his usual start of term notices. No going in the forbidden forest, no throwing fanged Frisbees in the corridor, new staff. The list went on and on. Draco could feel his stomach rumbling when suddenly the old man stopped and gave a warning about the dementors. This one chilled Draco to the bone.

'Dementors will not distinguish between their prey, and those who get in their way. They cannot be fooled by disguises, disillusionment charms or even invisibility cloaks.' Draco felt Dumbledore staring at Harry as he said this. Then the feast began and nearly all was forgotten in a display of gluttony that Draco couldn't bring himself to be ashamed about. He had eaten far too much by the time dessert came round, but he made room for it anyway. The usual varied choice of Hogwarts feasts was gone, replaced instead by death by chocolate. There were chocolate tarts, chocolate cakes, chocolate ice creams, chocolate fondues. It was almost as if Dumbledore knew about the train, and had ordered dessert as an attempt to dose everyone with chocolate to make up for it. Eventually, even the greediest student could eat no more, and Dumbledore declared the feast over. With a screech of benches being pushed over the stone floor, the school stood up and headed to their dormitories.

'How's everyone doing then?' asked Draco as he entered the dorm. He was the last to arrive and everyone else was in bed.

'Not bad, though I nearly didn't make it back.' Said Neville.

'Why?' asked Harry.

'Oh. Sirius Black. Uncle Algy said that he's supposed to be heading this way. Didn't want me to come as he thought I'd be in danger.'

'What do you mean heading this way, he'd be mad to do that, what with all the dementors being about. ' Draco rejoined.

'Yeah, but that's not why. He told me that Black had escaped to. Well, He's escaped to come after you, Harry.'

'WHAT?'

'Yeah, apparently he's been talking in his sleep for months now, saying "He's at Hogwarts." Over and over again. Ministry reckons he must be after you Harry.'

'Why me?'

'Uncle Algy said that Black was one of You-know-who's greatest supporters. Lost everything the night you, well, you know.' Neville shrugged. Harry nodded in tacit agreement, glad that his friend could see that for what was a cause of great celebration for the rest of the wizarding world was always going to be one of personal tragedy for him.

'The ministry reckon Black escaped to come after you.' Neville finished. The room fell silent in shock. Black had escaped to kill Harry? Why? He was his godfather. Why would he do that? But Draco knew that Azkaban did funny things to people. His mother spoke in hushed tones whenever his aunt Bellatrix was mentioned. Whenever she had gone to visit her, she had always come back feeling faint and would burst into tears without warning. Despite being cloaked in mystery, the dorm fell asleep quickly that night, knowing that Black could not possibly get at them, safe as they were inside the castle walls.

At breakfast the next morning, Professor McGonagall gave Draco his timetable. It was horrendous. So many more lessons compared to last year. Draco was griping about it all through breakfast. In the end, he only stopped because he got a glimpse of Hermione's timetable, which was not just full to bursting but actually cracked. She had lessons that overlapped, lessons which were on at the same time and some days without any chance to get a break for lunch. Both Harry and Hermione had Arithmancy first thing. They ran out of the hall and up to the classroom that Percy Weasley had hinted was the right one. Outside were three Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff.

'Is this it then?' Draco asked. Six people didn't seem like many for a class. It wsan't, but nonetheless, when Professor Vector arrived, she seemed unfazed by her apparent lack of students.

'Ahh, good, you're all here then. Nice big class this year. Well, shall we go in?' And in they went. The arithmancy classroom was one of the most boring that Draco had ever seen. It had rows of wooden desks with wooden chairs behind them, a large desk at the front for the teacher next to a large blackboard and that was it. Nothing else. No artefacts on the walls, none of the strange things in jars or skeletons of Defence Against the Dark Arts, not even the collection of maps that Professor Binns adorned his classroom with. The place was bereft of all such things with only a blackboard at the front to break up the otherwise dull wood-panelled walls. Draco felt his spirits being crushed by the very atmosphere of the place, somehow he knew this was going to be less fun than even double potions with Snap. Well, maybe not quite.

Professor Vector started the class off by asking a few questions.

'Do you all have your books? Good. Have any of you read any of it yet?' Only Hermione's hand went up.

'Ahh. I see we still have some work to do then. Do any of you know what arithmancy is?'

Draco stuck his hand up lazily. There was no point racing Hermione's up - she'd win every time. It was however Draco who got picked.

'It's the study of the magical properties of numbers and how these can be applied.'

'An excellent answer, Mr... Malfoy? Wasn't it?' Draco nodded proudly, 'It is, as Mr Malfoy says the study of the magical properties of numbers and the application thereof. Many people confuse arithmancy with Numerology, a topic that does indeed _loosely_ come under the purview of arithmancy, but in many ways it is more closely allied with the diviners. For those of you who are looking to study numerology in much detail I would advise you to speak to your head of house and change subject immediately, since we will not be touching upon it at all in this course. This year will be a hard one for many of you, particularly those who have not had a significant mathematical educations, since we will be studying the relationships between number in addition to the basic properties of magical numbers, so that you can more easily come to appreciate the applications we will be studying if you join me for NEWT levels. Arithmancy is a uniquely satisfying subject with a level of theory that is far better understood than in other subjects. This means that there will be little practical work involved, which some of you may enjoy.

Draco spent the rest of the class taking notes, as Professor Vector talked about the magical significance of primes and how this could be related to the number of movements made by the wrist when casting charms.

The rest of the day was busy too, but he had time to meet up with Harry and Ron at lunch. Hermione was presumably in a lesson, because she wasn't there.

'Have a good morning? How was care of magical creatures?'

'Yeah, Care was pretty good; Hagrid introduced us to a hippogriff called Buckbeak. Harry even got to ride him. '

'Yeah, but I still think I'd rather have a broom under me, it was a bit, uncomfortable.'

'Hippogriffs, they're supposed to be really dangerous, aren't they? '

'Seemed alright to me. No-one got hurt or anything. As long as you pay them respect, they won't kill you. Quite reasonable animals really.' Ron deadpanned before his face burst out into a massive grin.

'Hermione enjoyed it too, I think, though she did seem a bit nervous.'

'Hermione? Wasn't care of magical creatures first thing this morning?'

'Yeah, it was. Why do you ask?'

'I was with Hermione in arithmancy then. How could she have been with you guys? You don't think she's got a twin sister or something she hasn't told anyone about - I mean, how else could she be in two places at once?'

'No idea, we'd better keep an eye on her – if weird things like this keep going on and Hermione's not doing too well, we can go to McGonagall about it- she'd help Hermione out.'

'What? Grass on Hermione?' asked Harry, shocked.

'Well, only when we're sure and if we can't think of any other thing to do.' Blustered Draco. The three boys finished wolfing down their lunch and went off together to Charms. There they saw Hermione, who sat with them as they worked.

When Draco got back to the common room that evening he was shattered. Not as shattered as Hermione though, who spent the entire evening starting an essay for muggle studies and doing the reading Professor Flitwick had set for next week's charms lessons. Draco did the reading himself, but couldn't be bothered to start the essay for Vector- his only other homework- yet, he still had plenty of time, and his Tuesday afternoons were pleasantly empty for catching up on work. With the reading done, he had just enough time for a quick game of chess with Ron, before it was time to go to bed.


	17. Chapter 17

The weeks begun to roll into one long routine as the term progressed, certain lessons stuck in their mind, such as that one where Professor Lupin brought in a boggart, but many of them just melded nito a blur in their memories. The greatest excitement in Gryffindor tower however was not the impending quidditch season, nor the prospect of winning the house cup, in which they had a slight lead, but Sirius Black.

'He's been spotted not far from here.'

'I heard he was Voldemort's number two.'

'He was born evil, glad he's not in my family.'

Rumour had descended from her cavernous mountain of echoes and descended to the Gryffindor common room. There, the Hogwarts rumour mill did its work, until suddenly everyone was fearing that Sirius Black would be able to break open the castle doors by staring at them, and that it would take an effort from Dumbledore, the likes of which had not happened since the fall of Grindelwald, to bring him down.

The levels of rumour only increased after the Fat Lady was replaced by Sir Cadogan, because Black had broken into the castle and attacked her portrait with a knife. As the entire school was sent to spend the night in the great hall everyone knew about the attack within half an hour of its having been discovered. The rumour mill went wild after this. Why was Black trying to break into Gryffindor tower? Who was he after? No-one knew and the speculation grew wild. After Black had failed to show again, calm began to return to the school. This calm was soon replaced by excitement as the first Hogsmeade weekend of the term approached.

It was not long before the first Hogsmeade Weekend came. All of Gryffindor were looking forward to it, even the second years who couldn't go, but had placed orders with older students to acquire new stocks of sweets and dung bombs. The whole common room was buzzing with anticipation. Only one person wasn't happy. Harry had not gotten his formed signed by his aunt and uncle. Professor McGonagall had refused, saying that it was "probably for the best". Despite offers to stay behind and keep him company, Harry refused to let them make themselves miserable just because he hadn't got his form signed, so it was without Harry that Draco, Ron and Hermione set off to Hogsmeade. As they strolled down the long drive they were cheery and optimistic, a feeling that was soon replaced by dread as they passed through the gates, a feeling induced by the presence of two dementors.

As they passed the hovering dementors they began to feel better and by the time they had reached the village they were back to their excited state, keen to get into the village for the first time. Ron wanted to go to the Sweet shop first, Hermione wanted to go to the shrieking shack. It was down to Draco to cast the deciding vote. The sweet shop won. Draco was impressed by Honeydukes, with its vast array of sugar-based edibles, ranging from Cockroach cluster to Blood pops, everything that a wizard could want was there. The shop was quite crowded, so after having a good gawp, and after Hermione had suggested that they wouldn't have to carry the stuff for so long if they came back later that they went to the shrieking shack. Unbeknownst to them, four sets of footprints were making their way across the mud that covered the path leading to the shack at this time of year.

'It's supposed to be the most haunted building in Britain.' Hermione commented.

'Yeah, seems a bit spooky. Who'd want to live out here?'

'No-one since that place was built.'

'When was that?'

'Dunno, years ago, probably. Do you think the ghosts get out this far?'

Ron got no answer to his question , for at that moment something tapped him on the shoulder.

'What was that? Was it one of you?'

'What?'

'That. And there it was again. Which one of you is tapping me on the shoulder? It's not as if ghosts can touch.'

'Not me.'

'Nor me.'

The tapping came again. Ron slowly turned around only to see absolutely nothing. There was nothing in front of him whatsoever, only the clear air standing between himself and the shack.

'BOO!' Harry yelled, dropping the hood of his cloak.

'Argh!' Ron screamed in surprise. 'What the bloody hell are you doing here?'

'Surprised?' Harry asked. They certainly were.

'How did you get out of the castle?'

'Oh. Fred and George showed me one of the secret passageways out of the school. You know that statue of the hump-backed crone? The one with the really long nose that doesn't seem to belong?'

'Yeah, the one opposite thingy's classroom?'

'Yeah, that's the one. It's under that.'

'Harry, If anyone sees you here you'll be in so much trouble.'

'That's why I brought this.' Harry said, sticking his hands out of the cloak that concealed the rest of his body.

'I don't know, Harry, it's very risky.'

'Oh come on, Hermione, give the man a break, what's wrong with Harry coming to Hogsmeade, its not as if anything can happen to him with us here.'

'Ron.' Draco said, 'Do you really think Sirius Black would care that we're here? He killed _thirteen_ people with a single curse, alright, so they were muggles, but do you think a couple of underage wizards are going to stop him?'

'S'pose not. But you're not going to report Harry, are you Hermione?'

'No. Not this time, but I don't think that you should be coming out again. It's not as if it's particularly safe. What if Nott saw you? What if one of the teachers did?'

'Hermione, he's invisible, what's the worst that can happen?' Ron argued. In the event nothing did, although Harry might have _liberated_ a bar or two of chocolate from the Honeydukes' cellar on his way back to the school. Heading back to the common room, they headed up to their dorms to dump their coats and bags before heading down. Hermione was the last down.

'Have you seen my pussy?' she asked.

'I can't say I have.' Said Draco.

'Where can Crookshanks have gotten to? I can't find him anywhere.'

'He'd better not be chasing Scabbers again.' Ron said darkly.

'Scabbers is in our form, isn't he, Ron?'

'Yeah, think so, Harry.'

'Well, should be safe from the cat then – the door's shut tight and giving how it's sticking at the moment there's not a cat on earth that could open it.'

'Suppose so.' Said Ron as if he was sure that his rat was being devoured at this very moment. He was very much relieved therefore, when on getting back to the dorm he found Scabbers alive and well. Bathed in the warm glow of relief, Ron quickly fell asleep.

'AAARGH!'

A loud scream shattered the peace of the night. Ron was screaming loudly. Draco woke with a start and bleary-eyed asked what was wrong.

'Sirius Black. Standing over me. With a knife.' Ron replied.

'It was a nightmare, go back to sleep.' Draco grumbled, upset that his dream had been disturbed. It had been a good one.

'It wasn't a nightmare. Come and look at these curtains if you don't believe me.'

And beyond all doubt, someone had hacked at the curtains of the four-poster with a knife. The dorm quickly entered and they ran downstairs. The fire was dying in the grate. Everyone had gone to bed. Soon however, people started to appear. No-one in the tower had not heard the scream and soon Percy Weasley was down, demanding to know why they were all up.

'It was Sirius Black, Perce. Standing over me, holding a knife.'

'Don't be silly Ron, it was a nightmare.'

'No it wasn't- the curtains had been torn and everything.' Draco interrupted.

'I see.'

The noise began to grow.

'Did he say Sirius Black, in here?'

'What are we going to do?'

'Suppose he comes back!'

The noise grew to such an extent that Professor McGonagall was forced to come in , wearing a tartan nightdress to try and send them all to bed.

'What are you all doing out of bed? Hmm? Percy, I'm disappointed in you. What is everyone doing up?'

'My brother Ron had a nightmare, Professor.'

'IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE. I WOKE UP AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE.' Ron yelled.

Professor McGonagall visibly whitened.

'Don't be silly, Weasley, how could he have gotten in?'

'Ask him.' Said Ron, pointing at the portrait hole where Sir Cadogan stood guard. She left, and came back in moments later. If she had been pale before, now she was like a ghost.

'It appears you are right, Weasley.'

'Told you it was nightmare, Ron.'

'No, Sir Cadogan did let a man into the common room. A man answering the description of Sirius Black. Stay here.'

Professor McGonagall left in a busy rustling of her night-robe. She was back, moments later with Professor Dumbledore in tow.

'All of you to bed, now. Except for the third year boys.' The Headmaster said calmly. The rest of the house started to leave. Draco saw Hermione looking back over her shoulder. He mouthed "tell you in the morning" at her. She nodded and went off to bed.

'Well, boys. What happened?' The old man asked.

'Well, I was in bed asleep, Sir, when I heard this weird noise. I don't know quite why, but I woke up and saw a man standing over me holding a knife. It was Sirius Black! So, I, well I screamed. He ran away, then Draco woke up. Everyone came down to the common room and then Professor McGonagall came in.'

'I see. Do you have any idea why Sirius Black might be trying to kill you?'

'He's a bloody nutter, Sir!'

'There is that of course.' Said Dumbledore dryly, clearly seeing something funny in Ron's last outburst. Dumbledore then sent the boys to bed and organised yet another search of the castle. Another search that yielded no sign of Black.

For the next few weeks Ron found himself the centre of attention, with everyone in the school asking him for an account of what had happened that night. The tale grew in the telling, and soon it turned out that Ron had rolled in his bed to avoid being stabbed and then kicked Black to make him go away. This surprised everyone else who had been there, but no-one really minded, least of all Oliver Wood who was determined to win the Quidditch cup in this, his final year. So determined was he that he was regularly holding whole squad training sessions, so that Draco had not only his work to do, but Quidditch practice as well. It was tiring work. Although he and Harry had the same broom, Harry was definitely the better flyer, not to mention the fact that he had had a lot more practice recently than Draco. This didn't stop Madame Hooch, who had been given the task of supervising Gryffindor quidditch practices, in case of a Black attack, from praising Draco's abilities. Wood had the reserve side using Hufflepuff tactics, to try and give the first team the best chance of winning.

With these sessions filling his time, Draco had less and less time for work and was wondering how he could fit it all in. He felt, for the first time in his life, under pressure, and he wasn't sure how he would cope. He worked harder and longer than anyone else in Gryffindor these days. Apart from Hermione that is. These days she could not be seen without her nose stuck in a book. Privately, Draco thought that she had bitten off more than she could chew and it was beginning to show. Hermione's impossible timetable was still puzzling the boys too, and any attempt to raise the matter with Hermione led to her becoming edgy and evasive. It didn't take long before they didn't mention it altogether. Even Hermione took some time off from working when the first quidditch match of the season came along. It was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff and as Draco walked with Ron and Hermione down to the grounds, he couldn't help but look up into the sky, and feel glad that he was playing the match. This weather was horrible.


	18. Chapter 18

By the time the match had started the weather had gotten worse. The thick, low cloud obscured the castle and the driving rain meant that Draco couldn't even see the stands at the other side of the pitch. The match wasn't cancelled however. As Harry took to the air a faint cheer from the Gryffindor stands was drowned out by a loud clap of thunder. Even the commentary from Lee Jordan wasn't up to his usual standards, rather unsurprisingly, given he couldn't see either set of goalposts, let alone the snitch. Suddenly Wood called a time-out. Hermione disappeared at a run. Draco couldn't work out why, but he knew one thing- Harry in his glasses wouldn't be able to see anything in this weather, which was getting dangerous rapidly. Hermione returned shortly after the match restarted.

'Imperviused Harry's glasses- he should be able to see better now.' Hermione said in way of explanation for her sudden disappearance.

'Good, we'll stand a much better chance if our seeker can see where he's going, let alone the snitch.'

'Very true.' Ron nodded sagely.

A bright flash of lightning filled the sky and suddenly everything went cold.

'No, not now.' Said Draco, who had seen the source of the chill. In the sky hang several black shadows. As a vast roar of thunder filled the stadium the crowd fell silent, as a small black body fell from the bleak sky.

'Harry!' Hermione gasped. He was heading straight for the floor. Surely there was no way he could survive that. As the dementors closed, Draco's memories returned to haunt him.

'Useless boy! Sometimes I wonder what good you ever do. You were supposed to help your mother, not drop everything and get in the way.'

'But it was so heavy.'

'At your age you should be strong enough. When will you ever grow up?' The voice of cruel Lucius mocked. A bright white filled Draco's fogging vision and suddenly he felt better.

'Harry! What happened?' Draco asked.

'Dementors.' Hermione said. 'Harry must have come across them up there in the clouds. You know what happened on the train..,' Hermione fell silent.

'Well, Dumbledore must have done something, because Harry stopped just before he hit the ground. Then he did something to make the dementors go away. That's when Diggory caught the snitch. Madame Pomfrey took Harry to the hospital wing, but I think he's going to be alright.' Ron continued.

Draco felt bad- how could he not have seen what had happened? Why did he let the dementors affect him so? He mustn't be so weak. He had to be able to get a grip of himself. He knew it had to be done. But how? Then a rogue thought came to Draco's mind.

'What happened to Harry's broom?'

'I don't know.' Hermione admitted.

'Let's go and look for it, we can go and see him afterwards. He'll want to know what's happened to it.'

They spread out throughout the grounds, but in the end they found it, or at least what they assumed to be it, in a pile at the bottom of the whomping willow. It took a lot of time to gather the splinters, avoiding the tree's vindictive swipes, but Draco insisted on doing it himself, there was no way he was going to show himself to be weak and cowardly after that dementor attack, not in front of his friends.

Eventually he had gathered the splinters into his robe. Somehow it affected him badly, seeing this broom, the identical twin of his own, broken and destroyed. He hoped that Harry was alright.

In the hospital wing, Harry was coming to, when his three friends burst in, with the Gryffindor quidditch team in tow.

'Harry! How are you?' Hermione asked.

'Fine. What happened. Did we win?' Harry asked Fred, who merely shook his head.

'Diggory tried to call it off, but he'd already caught the snitch, same moment you. Well, you know.' George's eyes dived to the floor as he finished the sentence.

'What happened to my broom?'

Draco stepped forwards and sadly placed the remnants of the once proud flying-stick onto Harry's bed. Harry's heart looked as if it had broken. It was almost as if his first love had died, and Draco felt much the same way. It wasn't just any broom after all; it was _that_ broom, it was totally irreplaceable.

The holidays were fast approaching and this Christmas Draco was going home. He felt that he had been neglecting his uncle, and Christmas after all, was supposed to be a time for family. Harry, Ron and Hermione may be staying at Hogwarts, but he wasn't. Not this time, as he boarded the carriage that would take him to Hogsmeade his friends waved him goodbye. He had promised to write and was looking forward to getting letters from them.

His uncle met him off the train at King's cross, and from there they apparated back home. The house had been decorated for Christmas, but without much effort. In the corner of the hall by the bottom of the stairs sat a sad Christmas tree, with lights- muggle electric lights and tinsel over it. Somehow it felt that the spirit of Christmas cheer had left this house by as it had flowed over the world. Noctifer had however been baking. There were mince pies by the dozen in a tin in the kitchen, which were soon reduced in number my Draco's keen munching.

'What's the white stuff on top of the filling?' Draco asked through a full mouth. 'It's delicious.'

'Family secret, kiddo. I'll tell you someday, when I'm sure nobody's listening in.' His Uncle replied mysteriously. Nor was this the only mysterious thing Draco noticed his uncle doing. He disappeared at odd hours, sometimes for hours at a time, without telling Draco where he was going, though at other times he told him he was going to work. Draco was also confused about the lack of decorations in the house. For so long now, Draco had thought of his uncle as the jovial type and had always assumed that he would have decorated the house for Christmas far more than he actually had and for some reason he was disappointed.

He must have let his disappointment show, for when Draco came down on Christmas morning, the whole house was a gaudy display of festive cheer.

'Merry Christmas, Draco.'

'Merry Christmas.'

'What do you fancy for breakfast- I was going to have bacon and eggs.'

'Sounds good to me.'

'I'll make it for two then. We'll do presents after breakfast.'

'So you want to wait until after lunch?'

'No, I never could be bothered with doing all that waiting.'

Draco sat in silence as his uncle carried on cooking up breakfast.

'There we go.' Said Noctifer, placing a plate down in front of Draco on the kitchen table.

'Any chance of a bit of brown sauce to go with it?'

'Course. It's still in the same cupboard it was last time you were here.'

Draco went and got out the bottle, which he seemed to him not to have been touched since he was last at home. He picked it up and returned to the table, where he dolloped a generous blob next to his eggs.

'After you with the bottle, kiddo.'

Draco handed the bottle to his uncle who applied it with relish. There was a lot on his plate- he seemed to like the stuff. Why then had the bottle not been touched? Soon breakfast was over and it was time for presents. Hermione had sent him a book called _Popular Arithmancy_ _– A Beginner's Guide._ Ron, a large box of cockroach cluster, which Draco had once jokingly claimed to be hi favourite suite- they'd been laughing about cockroach cluster all term. Harry had gotten him a particularly soft pair of seeker's gloves for quidditch. That wasn't the only sporting gift he had received though.

'Wow. Thanks Uncle Noctifer, that's amazing!' Draco exclaimed as he unwrapped a full set of cricket gear, the great leg pads were around the outside of a bat, gloves and a box. The helmet was on top of the bat handle, which stuck out of the top of the pads.

'It's a short handle bat, it might be a smidgeon long at the moment, but you'll grow into it.'

'Wow. It's a beauty, very heavy though.'

'I don't believe all this modern nonsense about a light bat. Your mates'll be hitting it out of the ground if they get a sweet spot, sure, but that whole bat is a sweet spot. It'll be belting its way down to the boundary for four every time you get an edge, unless a fielder gets in the way.' Draco gave his uncle a big hug and as the older man grasped him in return, he felt a wave of happiness flood over him. For once, he felt wanted. For once, he felt truly at home.

That afternoon, some letters arrived from Hogwarts.

The scrawly handwriting of the first proclaimed it to be from Harry.

_Draco,_

_You'll never believe what turned up this Christmas. I got a FIREBOLT.I can't believe it. There wasn't any note to say who it was from. Any ideas? Hermione was a bit sniffy about it- got really annoying, but in the end she left after Crookshanks attacked Scabbers. She still thinks that creature's innocent. Hope you're having a good Christmas._

_Harry._

The other letter was written in Hermione's elegant hand.

_Dear Draco,_

_I hope you're having a good Christmas. Everything's going alright here and if I'm honest I'll tell you that I'm enjoying the break from work. Harry got a bit of a funny present. A Firebomb or something- a fast broom at any rate. There wasn't a note, so I'm wondering if it might have been sent by Sirius Black- after all, Neville said he was supposed to be after Harry. Harry and Ron didn't listen to me- they don't seem to care that it could be dangerous. Then they yelled at me because Crookshanks did what cats do and leaped at Scabbers. I really wish Ron would stop going on about it- I've tried keeping Crookshanks up in my dorm, but he just gets grumpy. The other girls don't like him either. At any rate, I'm not sure what to do about it. Perhaps I should go to McGonagall. What do you think? _

_Looking forward to seeing you again._

_Hermione._

Draco was still debating about what to put in his reply to Hermione when another letter arrived.

_Draco,_

_I don't know why I did it, but I went to McGonagall after lunch to tell her about the broomstick. Now she's taken it away to be stripped and Harry and Ron won't speak to me. Not only that, but when we got back, Ron found his rat missing; there was blood on his sheet and some ginger cat hairs. I think they might have been from earlier this morning but Ron won't listen and he looks at me like I'm defending a murderer just because I said that Crookshanks was just being a cat. I've only just opened my presents-Mum and Dad always liked to open them after lunch. Thank you for the book- it looks beautiful. I'm really looking forward to reading it too- I haven't read any wizarding fiction before._

_Hope you're having a better Christmas than I am._

_Hermione_

Was that water mark at the bottom of the letter caused by a falling tear? Hermione seemed really upset to Draco and he wanted to do something to make her feel better. Then an idea hit ran downstairs.

'Uncle N, have we got any boxes of chocolate in the house?'

'Surely you can't still be hungry after what you ate for lunch?'

'No, it's just this girl at school- my friend Hermione; I'd like to send them to her.'

'Trying to get yourself a girlfriend?' Noctifer teased.

'No! It's just she's not feeling very happy at the moment and I wanted to cheer her up.'

'Alright, I was only joking. We might have a box of posh chocs in the sideboard. I'll dig them out for you.'

Slowly Noctifer got to his feet and waddled, still full to the point of bursting from Christmas dinner, into the next room where the sideboard sat. Squatting down he opened up a door and pulled out two boxes.'

'We've got Nordred's Nutty Nougat Selection or Aelfric's Alcoholic Assortment. Think we'd better go with the Nougat- will that do?'

'That'll be great. Thanks.' Draco said, taking the box before he ran back upstairs. Sitting down at his desk- a lovely walnut thing with inlaid green leather- he started to write a new letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I hope Ron and Harry aren't giving you too rough a time about the broom. Whilst they may not like you for it now, if anything is discovered, then you'll see how fast their tune will change. Since I can't be with you I'm sending you a box of chocolates to try and cheer you up in my stead. Whilst they may not have all of my charm and sophistication, they have the advantage of being edible, which I like to think I'm not! The arithmancy book look likes it's going to be fun so I'm going to save that to relieve the boredom when I'm coming back up on the train- it's really no fun at all without you lot there to talk to. _

_Christmas at Home had been very quiet for me, compared to the last few years at school, although judging by the number of people going home on the train, it seems that your Christmas will be relatively quiet too. Have you started that holiday essay for Vector yet? It's taken me ages to find the right stuff in the book. _

_Looking forward to seeing you again,_

_Draco._

Having attached the box of chocolates to the owl, he handed the letter over and the owl set off on his delivery. The rest of the holiday, Draco spent answering letters, writing essays and relaxing, but precious little of the latter, since before he knew it, he was once more boarding the Hogwarts express to return to school.


	19. Chapter 19

When Draco returned to the common room, he instantly saw that the disagreement between Hermione and the others was more than she had let on. Hermione was sitting on her own, in a small wooden chair in the corner of the room, working on an essay . Harry and Ron were sitting by the fire, laughing and playing exploding snap. The Weasley brothers surrounded the pair, who seemed to be at the centre of attention of those who had stayed at Hogwarts. Draco hurried up the stairs to dump his little day-pack off in his dorm and then rushed back down to where Hermione sat.

'How'ya doing, Hermione.'

'Oh! You're back!' said Hermione.

'Am I?' Draco prodded his chest in jest. 'Yup, seems like it.'

Hermione cracked a small smile, but Draco noticed that her eyes looked redder than ever he had seen them before.

'You alright?'

'Yeah, I'm fine.' Was Hermione sniffling slightly?

'Really?'

'Yeah, it's just I've got a lot of work to do, that's all. So now if you'd just leave me be...' Hermione said with a distant hint of irritation in her voice.

'OK. You know where to find me.' Said Draco, brfore walking over to where Harrry and Ron were reaching the climax of their game.

'SNAP!'

As Harry laid his hand over the last remaining card, the pack in Ron's hand exploded with a force that was loud enough to nearly knock the sofa over. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Draco that Hermione was tutting, probably upset that her peace and quiet was being disrupted.

'Hi guys.'

'Hi Draco, had a good Hols?'

'Yeah, got all the work done I needed to and had a bit of a relax too. How were yours?'

'Yeah, great thanks. I told you that I got a Firebolt, didn't I?'

'Yeah, you might have mentioned it. How is it?'

'No idea, McGonagall confiscated it before I got to have a go.'

'No thanks to her.' Interrupted Ron.

'Will she let you have it back for the match?'

'Don't know. She says it needs stripping down to test for curses.'

'Stripping down a brand new Firebolt. It should be illegal.' Fred weighed into the discussion, rather loudly. In the far corner, Hermione was angrily packing her books up to head upstairs.

'Don't you guys think your being a bit hard on Hermione? After all, she was thinking of your safety when she told.'

'That's not the point- there's nothing wrong with that broom!'

'Have you tested it?'

'You know, Draco, you're sounding just like Hermione at the moment, have you two been co-ordinating or something?'

'No! But surely you'll have the broom back soon?'

'Yeah, but will it be in time for the next match?' Harry asked.

'If it isn't, I'll lend you my broom, don't worry about that. I'll not see Gryffindor's best seeker flying around on a knackered old school broom.'

'Thanks, Draco. But still, a Firebolt. A real, live Firebolt. There's not a better broom in the world.'

'For the moment.' Draco said mysteriously.

'What do you mean, for the moment?' Ron asked, 'what's going to beat this, it's centuries ahead of anything Nimbus can do, and they're the best of the rest.'

'Just wait 'til Cattell brings out his next broom. That'll be fantastic.'

'I still reckon I'd rather have a Firebolt.' Harry countered, , 'do you have any idea how fast it can go?'

'It's cornering you need for quidditch- speed is great for a race, but it's no substitute for handling.'

'Yeah, but a fast broom is loads better than a slow one.'

'Ron, if you can't turn at speed, then you may as well not bother going fast at all, particularly if you're trying to catch a snitch.'

Ron bowed to Draco's superior experience and the conversation turned to the league and how the cannon's were doing surprisingly well this year- in their last match they had managed to get a no score draw against the Thunderers.

The next morning started early and darkly. The sun had not yet risen above the mountains around Hogwarts by the time that Draco shuffled downstairs to the great hall for breakfast.

'Morning.' Harry yawned.

'Morning.' Draco yawned back, 'You're up early.'

'I wanted to ask McGonagall about the broom before breakfast- Wood did his nut last night when I told him I hadn't gotten a new one.'

'Yeah, he did, didn't he,' Draco chuckled, ' He was pleased about the Firebolt though, wasn't he.'

'Not half!' Harry said smiling back. 'Shame _she_ got it confiscated.'

'These things happen.'

'But why do they always happen to me?'

To that Draco had no answer and he still hadn't by the time he arrived at arithmancy. Hermione turned up slightly late and went to sit with one of the Ravenclaws. How odd, she always sat with Draco in arithmancy. She didn't sit near him or Harry or Ron in any of their lessons that day. Nor the day after that. Nor the day after that. In the end, Draco cornered Hermione in the Library.

'Do I smell bad or something?'

'What? No, of course not.'

'Then why aren't you sitting with me anymore?'

'I just wanted a change, that's all.'

'Well, so long as that's it.' Said Draco disbelievingly.

The conversation ended there, seemingly without effect for Hermione still didn't sit with the boys after lunch in lessons or at dinner. The next day, Draco turned up to breakfast early. Hermione was sitting there, morosely eating a bowl of porridge.

'Morning, Hermione. Is this seat free?'

'Yeah, no-one's in it, are they?'

'I suppose not.' Said Draco, still unsure about whether Hermione wanted him there or not. He decided that it didn't matter and sat down. He helped himself to bread and butter and bacon before starting to make himself a sandwich. Hermione didn't say anything.

'Could you pass the brown sauce, please?'

'Here you go.'

Hermione was still subdued, almost sullen.

'What's up?'

'Nothings up.'

'You might be able to fool McGonagall and Flitwick with talk like that Hermione, but you're not going to fool me that easily. Something's up. What is it?' Draco asked kindly.

' .' Hermione replied venomously. 'Nothing at all. I've been abandoned by my friends, so everything is perfect, thank-you very much.'

'Hey, hey, hey, what do you mean abandoned by your friends? What do you think I am?'

'Yeah, it's not as i you've been around a lot. You're siding with them.'

'Huh?' This had puzzled Draco, he had definitely not agreed with Harry and Ron about the Firebolt.

'Well, it's true isn't it?'

'What?'

'You reckon I shouldn't have told McGonagall.'

'I reckon that if you hadn't told McGonagall and something had happened, you'd never have been able to forgive yourself.'

'See. Just what I mean. You're siding with them. Just because I'm a girl and you're all boys.'

'Did you even listen to a word I just said?'

'You're always ignoring me. You're not even sitting with me in class.'

'You weren't sitting with me, I thought you'd stopped wanting to.'

'So? You could have tried.'

'How? Most of the time, we're there first.'

Hermione looked stumped at that.

'Well, _they_ don't like me.'

'They're just being silly and childish. They'll get over it, you'll see.'

'No they won't, Ron said he didn't know why he was friends with me in the first place.'

'His loss.' Hermione smiled at that and seemed to perk up a bit. Flattery does get you somewhere, no matter what they say.

'Yeah, I suppose it is ,isn't it.' Draco loaded his bacon sandwich with brown sauce, slapped the final slice of bread on top and bit in. The sauce leaked out of the bread and dribbled down the side of his mouth, which made Hermione giggle slightly.

'You've got sauce on your face. Here.' Hermione said, gesturing to the right side of her face. Draco went to wipe the right side of his face with his fingers.

'No, other side.'

The second time, Draco did find the sauce, and he wiped it off his face and then licked it off his finger. Oh, there wasn't anything like it was there? Except gravy perhaps, and pastry. And chocolate. That was pretty good too.

Before Draco's thoughts permanently drifted into food-land, Harry and Ron turned up.

'Oi, what're you doing sitting with her?' Ron yelled at Draco, who ignored him. 'Still sticking up for Hermione are we? Why don't you stick by your friends, rather than with a grass. She'll tell on you in no time, you know.'

Hermione ran out of the great hall and Draco followed not long after. In the end he found her sitting on the cold, stone step outside of arithmancy, crying. Draco sat down next to her, and not knowing what to do to stop a girl from crying, he put his arms around her. She carried on crying, now quietly, now great sobs wracking her body. Draco just sat there, rocking her gently as she cried and cried.

'Hush, now, hush.' Draco said soothingly.

'Why are you doing this.' Sobbed Hermione, 'you d d don't even like me.' But Draco didn't stop, they just sat there for what seemed like ages- it was a Saturday after all, they had nowhere to go. He didn't know why, but just then Ron came round the corner.

'Ooh, got yourself a girlfriend, Draco? That explains why you're sticking up for the know-it-all, then.'

Hermione only started sobbing harder.

'Bugger off, Ron. Can't you see how upset you're making her?'

'Good, perhaps that'll teach her to get other peoples broom stolen by teachers.'

But he did leave after saying that at least.

Draco continued gently rocking Hermione and rubbed his hands up and down her back a bit, to try and calm her down. Draco didn't understand why she was crying like this. After all, what was the point in crying? It was just a waste of time and energy, really, not to mention how silly it was- what had ever been achieved by crying? He'd always been told that crying was for babies. Hermione was sniffing now, as well as crying , so Draco lifted one hand off of her back and into his pocket.

'Here you go.' Said Draco, proffering a handkerchief. Hermione took it and dabbed her eyes before loudly blowing her nose on it.

'Thanks.'

'You're welcome.'

By now, Hermione seemed to have run out of tears, because she stopped crying.

'Feeling better?'

'I think so.'

'Good. Got any plans for today?'

'Nope.'

'Fancy going to visit Hagrid?' Draco suggested, perhaps he would be able to say something to make Hermione happier.

'Alright then.' They walked in silence for a long time. Eventually, they arrived at Hagrid's hut, but he wasn't in.

'Well, what shall we do now? Fancy going for walk and trying again in half an hour? There's a nice little path that goes down the rocky hill by the lake I found the other day- it's got a really nice view- if you don't get vertigo that is.'

'I'm up for that.' Hermione said, the tears of this morning already half-forgotten in the brisk air. They walked over to the twisting path that lead down the bare hillside.

'I don't know why this hill is so bare, do you?'

'No idea. It isn't even mentioned in Hogwarts, a History, so its probably something boring like it isn't the right type of rock.' Draco nodded in agreement. The wrong kind of rock- that seemed reasonable, after all, they'd had that lecture last week from Professor Sprout about ground granite compost for tentacula, which could kill nearly every other plant.

They climbed down the steep path, which was carved into the very rock, right down to the lake, where they walked for a bit, side by side.

'Do you think it's time to head back yet?' asked Hermione.

'Yeah, why not.'

When they got up to Hagrid's hut, Hagrid still wasn't back.

'Oh well.' Hermione sighed, 'can we go back up to the castle, I'm getting cold.'

'OK.'

When they were nearing the slope that led back up to the castle, Hermione spoke again.

'Thanks for earlier, Draco.'

'Oh, it's not a problem, after all, we can't expect too much from you, you're only a girl after all.'

Draco did not expect what happened next. He thought he'd been being nice. Apparently he hadn't because.

THWACK!

Hermione's hand hit him the side of his face hard, very hard.

'You sexist pig!'

'What?'

'What do you mean "only a girl". I'll have you know I'm just as good as you are if not better.'

'Of course you are, but you can't deny that girls do get silly from time to time and just start crying.'

'Silly, am I? Why don't you just go and be with Harry and Ron. You clearly think they're better than me.'

'You know, it would be a lot easier if I did- you've seen the stick they've been giving me about it- and that's the least of it.'

'What's been stopping you?' Hermione spat, angrily.

'I thought that you wanted a friend. Clearly I was wrong.' Draco spat back before turning around and stormed off in the other direction.


	20. Chapter 20

It was a full two hours before Draco returned to the common room. Hermione wasn't there, thankfully. Draco wasn't sure he wanted to see her right now. What was he going to do? Well, he'd needed to finish that potions essay for a while now, so why not head to the library to finish it? Draco was torn between not doing the final bit of research and getting murdered by Professor Snape or going to the library, where Hermione might be. In the end, the fear of Snape won out.

As Draco opened the great door to the library he looked round, no Hermione! As he took up his favourite table by the window he smirked to himself-to think he'd been worried about bumping into Hermione- she wasn't even here! Right, now all he needed was the book on potions that Snape had recommended. He walked over to the relevant section and picked out the weighty tome. Index, index. Ahhh. There we go. Page 274. What does it say there? Perfect, just what Draco needed.

The essay took a good three hours to finish, so Draco was quite tired when he walked out of the library. So tired, that he wasn't looking where he was going.

'Mind yourself, Mr Malfoy.' An ancient voice half-boomed at him. It was Dumbledore!

'Sorry, Sir. Wasn't looking where I was going.'

'I can see that.' Was that a smile? Certainly the corners of Dumbledore's mouth were curling.

'I take it you've been busy since this morning, then Draco.'

'Yes, quite, thank you, Sir, I was just heading back to the common room after finishing my potions essay.'

'Ah, yes I know the one. Professor Snape says that he hasn't seen one answered correctly in years.'

'Well, there's a first time for everything, Sir, I got the answer partly from the recommended book but mainly from one I got for Christmas a couple of years back.'

'Is it any good?'

'I don't think I've seen one better. In many ways it's a shame I don't have one for ancient runes or arithmancy. They've been really useful.'

'Have they indeed. Do you know where they came from?'

'No idea, Sir, but whoever it was, I wish they'd sent a note so I could thank them.'

By now, Dumbledore was definitely smiling.

'Well, I've held you up long enough. Off you go now, Draco.'

Draco turned to leave.

'Oh, and do try and make it up with Miss Granger, will you?'

How had he known?

'Yes, Sir.'

How had the old man known? Had Hermione told on him? No- surely not. Surely she'd learnt her lesson on that at any rate, not to mention that Dumbledore would have been a lot less, well, smiley, if she'd told.

Sunday was another quiet day, where Draco saw neither hide nor hair of Hermione. He didn't see much of anyone to be honest, with Harry spending nearly all day on the quidditch pitch for first team training and Ron busy cobbling two essays together for Flitwick and Sprout. He spent most of the day in a sort of blue funk, with no-one to talk to and nothing to do. Oh well, may as well try and get ahead on work- he'd done all of his homework, but he could guess what was coming up next in Defense against the Dark Arts. The next chapter in the book was on Hinkypunks. Draco was well into the chapter entitled _Hinkypunks, how not to get bogged down _when Lee Jordan walked in.

'Draco! How you doing?'

'Not bad thanks Lee. What's up?'

'Nothing bad. McGonagall's made me cricket captain and I'm trying to put the team together. You up for it?'

'What, you want me for the team?'

'Yeah, I think you'd make a great number 6 bat. After all, you're damn near impossible to get out and when it comes to bowling you can normally hold up an end.'

'Course I'm in. When do we start nets?'

'Next week- if I can persuade Hagrid to get some up. You get on with him don't you? You couldn't give us a hand with that?'

'Sure.'

'Good. When can you do it?'

'Well, I'm free now, if that's any good to you.'

'Great, get your shoes on and let's go.'

The pair walked down to Hagrid's hut, discussing cricket all the way.

'So, did you see any matches over the summer?'

'My uncle took me to a game at The Oval.'

'Great. Who was playing.'

'It was a one-day game.'

'Not sure I care for them as much as the longer forms.'

'Yeah, they are less exciting, but still, what cricket. One of the aussies jumped up to catch a ball, but he was standing on the boundary, he fell over backwards with the ball in his hands, so it went for six.'

'Really? Bet you laughed at that.'

'Not to much- I was sitting near some aussies in the crowd. Mind you, they probably had to avoid laughing as well when the England spinner bowled straight to third man.'

'Third Man? That's so wide. What went wrong?'

'Probably came out of his grip at the wrong time. To be honest, I haven't been inducted into the black art of spin bowling.' Draco said, grinning.

'Who has? That wasn't rhetorical by the way; I still need to find a spinner.'

'What about. No, not him. Or. Yes he'd do.'

'Who?'

'Ken Towler.'

'Yeah- I'd forgotten about that spell he'd put in before he broke his arm batting. Got a five-for didn't he?'

'Yeah. And he bowled me out in the nets a couple of times.'

'Wow. He managed to beat the immovable object?'

'Immovable object- who's that?'

'You, dimwit!' Lee Jordan said friendlily.

'Oi! Mind it!' Draco joked back.

When they got to the hut, Draco knocked on the door. Hagrid answered it.

'Hello, Draco. Just the person I've been wanting to have a word with. And you too , come in.'

'Hi Hagrid.' Said Draco cheerfully. He spotted Hermione in the corner. So this is where she'd been.

'Hi Hermione.' Said Draco, trying to sound as if yesterday had never happened, after all, Dumbledore's imperative was not to be ignored.

'Draco.' Hermione nodded as she coldly spoke. Oh dear.

'How are you doing? I haven't seen you in ages.'

'You come and ask me that?'

Clearly Draco was going to have to try harder if he and Hermione were going to go back to being bosom buddies.

'So, Lee, what did yeh come down fer?' asked Hagrid.

'Well, I was wondering if it would be possible to get some cricket nets set up a bit early this year.'

'Should be. Yeh'll have to ask Dumbledore for permission, but I'm willin' ter do it if yeh've asked.'

'Right. Thanks Hagrid.' Lee said cheerily, turning his back and scudding off to find Dumbledore.

'Now he's gone I want a word with you, Draco. What've you done to our Hermione, eh?'

Draco gave Hagrid a blank look. _He'd_ not done anything. _She'd_ just told him she didn't want _him_ as a friend and when he'd taken offense at that he'd gone away. What was wrong with _her_?

'Don' look at meh like that yeh daft dimbat! Yeh can see how upset Hermione is. All she's said to me is that yeh not being her friend no more!'

'Well, she did tell me she didn't want me as her friend anymore.' Said Draco, calmly and boldly facing up to the annoyed Hagrid.

'You told me you didn't like me first.' Hermione started. Hagrid sat down and watched as the relationship began to heal itself in a mass of irate communication.

'You told me I was silly.'

'You told me that you didn't want me to be your friend.'

'You said it would be easier for you if you weren't.'

'But I didn't say that I didn't want to be your friend, did I?'

Hermione couldn't think of a retort to that. In the end she just ran over to him and gave him a hug.

'Let's not do this again.'

'Alright.'

Hagrid let out a huff of amusement from his chair in the corner.

After a warm and wet cup of tea, Draco and Hermione headed back to Gryffindor tower, if not as firm friends as they had been the previous week, then at least getting on. In Gryffindor tower however, were two people who were not friends with Hermione and hadn't been for weeks. Harry and Ron. They had been carefully avoiding Hermione as she always seemed to win the argument, even if she did break down into tears afterwards, but Draco they couldn't have avoided if they wanted too. Harry was naturally annoyed t having his present taken from him but tried not to show it too much. Ron on the other hand, who was by far the least injured of any party in this matter, was taking it as if it was an offense against him directly. It was Ron who berated Draco about being friends with Hermione, Ron who casually but deliberately was making his life less than pleasant. Draco did his best to ignore it, hoping that everything would be forgotten when the Firebolt was returned. That it might not was a thought that Draco couldn't bring himself to think.

Perhaps Draco had upset Ron more than he thought, because that night his broomstick went missing and whilst no-one could have the blame pinned on them, it was Ron Draco suspected most.

Draco was heart-broken. It had been bad enough seeing Harry's broken, but now his own was gone. It was gone and it left an empty place in his heart, an empty hole that he desperately wanted to avoid filling with anger. But how could he? The school's official investigation revealed that it had just disappeared, and with the magic about Hogwarts these thing were known to happen. The school therefore paid Draco 150 galleons in reparation and advised him to get a new broom.

Where from though? To get a Firebolt would be to copy Harry and that would never do, particularly since his might arrive before Harry got his own broom back, and that would never do. What if he thought he was rubbing his nose in it? No. Another Waxwing was impossible to get hold of. Cattell had stopped making them and its replacement was still not yet on the market as far as Draco knew. It was with real interest therefore that Draco picked up the monthly copy of _Which Broom?_ That was circulating the dormitory.

The front pages were full of a special article on family brooms- absolutely no good for quidditch, but brilliant if you had a family of four to transport across half the world and didn't like Floo powder or apparating. The next section was the usual comparison of bottom of the market brooms for beginner flyers and those with a non-existent budget. A letter from Uncle Noctifer in reply to his own explaining the situation had told him to break the bank- get anything he wanted.

Ah. Here were the new top-end brooms. Nice, there was the Firebolt. Rating 9.9/10. That was impressive and as for its acceleration. Beyond belief. The next page caught his eye. That was an elegant broom on it, lovely sleeked tail that split into a fivefold tip. That was unusual. What was it called? The Gadwall? What was this then? Draco scanned the article and spotted the name Cattell, this was going to be a good one, probably. Nice stats and what pace! That acceleration may not be that of the Firebolt, but. What did the review say? Draco settled down and read.

_It is with great pleasure and anticipation that we hear of any new broom made by John Cattell, despite being a maverick and without a large company infrastructure Cattell produces some of the most pleasurable brooms to test. In the Gadwall, he has surpassed himself. Its unique polyfinialled tail gives the rider enhanced resistance to buffeting whilst providing the instability necessary for quick turns and rapid dives. This broom compares favourably to many of the stunt brooms that have been produced in the past in terms of handling, yet it does not belong in this category. Why? Because it has too great a top speed and acceleration. This Broom can easily outpace all mass-produced broomsticks with a particularly powerful motive spell. Nor is this broom without its creature comforts, there may be no cup holders or padded saddles that come with this broom, but there needn't be- it is a broom sans pareil in the realm of individual sports and racing brooms. Whilst it may not have the pace of other brooms recently placed on the open market, it makes up for this by being in a noticeably lower price bracket. For the same price as a second hand Nimbus 2000, it is unquestionably good value. _

_It is also a very good performer in our test, as well as on paper, with handling being a notable exception- here it did not pass our tests but destroyed them. This may be the first broom that can turn within its own length without hovering and made the test course seem like a straight line. _

_Certainly, this broom will have its detractors, with a lack of standard comforts that can be found in a run-of-the-mill family broom that some may find disappointing in a sports broom such as this. Indeed, it is not the fastest broom on the market, by what can now be considered a considerable margin, it is certainly the best handling one, thanks to its revolutionary new design that will undoubtedly be replicated in all sports brooms to come._

_Which? Gives this broom a rating of 9.8/10._

That was it. That broom would do perfectly. Draco immediately scribbled a letter off to his uncle asking for the Gadwall. A letter came in reply saying that it had been ordered, and should be delivered to Hogwarts as soon as possible.

The next Saturday morning, two large owls swept down on Draco at breakfast with the morning post. For him, it consisted of a large parcel. A long, large parcel. The Gadwall.

'Wow, that's a seriously nice broom.' Said Ron.

'Yeah, can I have a go?' asked Harry.

'Only if I can have a go on yours when you get it back.' Draco replied.

'Course.' Harry smiled.

Another two parcels arrived at Gryffindor table at that moment, a school owl for Draco and a hand delivered item for Harry.

'Here, Potter, you can have it back. It's been checked and we can't find anything wrong with it.'

'I can have it back , Professor, I can really have it back?'

'Yes, oh, and Potter. Do try and win won't you, Professor Snape will be unbearable if you don't, he's already reminding everyone about how Gryffindor haven't won the cup since Charlie Weasley left.'

Ron seemed thoughtful.

'I suppose we ought to make it up to Hermione really, I mean, she was acting for the best.'

'Yeah.' Harry agreed. Finally, how long had it taken to get those two to realise that?

Draco's package was quite different; it was another two books, seemingly from the same series as that from which his Christmas present in first year had come, one entitled _Arithmancy_, the other _The Study of Ancient Runes_. It came with a note, which simply read:

_I am glad you have taken my advice._

Advice about what? Who had given him advice? Then it struck him- Dumbledore. This was a reward for making it up with Hermione- as if the act hadn't been its own reward. Draco turned his head towards the high table and nodded at the man sitting in the central chair, who nodded back. So, it was Dumbledore then. No wonder they were so good.

Draco's train of thought was soon interrupted by Harry, who wanted to go outside and  
try the brooms out. First each mounted their own brooms and had a race around the goalposts. As everyone predicted the Firebolt had a much greater straight line speed, but every time the two flyers rounded the goalposts, Draco would overtake Harry, who would then retake the lead in the straight. Who would win? In the end Harry did, so they landed and swapped brooms. The Firebolt was impressive, turning at what Draco felt to be the slightest thought. It wasn't as responsive asthe Gadwall though. Draco was going to win this time, he was sure of it- after all, he had the faster broom.

It was not to be however, Draco may, or may not, have had the better broom, but Harry was definitely the better flyer, and a far bolder one at that. This time Harry could keep pace with Draco in the straights, and easily overtook him in the corners. Perhaps weight made a big difference, Draco didn't know, but he did know that Harry, with the help of Draco's own broom, had just humiliated him. Never mind, at least his broom was good.

'So, Harry., how did you find it?'

'Handling was amazing. I'd thought the Firebolt was good when I first rode it, but this is even better. Not as fast as mine though.' Harry concluded.

'Yeah, I thought pretty much the same, but I must confess, whilst the Firebolt responded well, it took forever to turn in comparison.'

'True. Want another race?'

'No way- you just handed me my arse on a plate. Ron! Do you fancy a go?'

Ron was keen and took up the Gadwall, against Harry's Firebolt. He was impressed. Even Hermione had a go, although she barely left the ground and spent most of the time screaming her lungs out. She really didn't like flying, did she?

When the boys had finally stopped laughing, they headed in, much firmer friends than when they had gone to breakfast.


	21. Chapter 21

An unseasonal blast of heavy snow dominated behaviour in the castle for the next few weeks, in charms Professor Flitwick taught a range of fire charms, which were not only elegant and powerful, but warming too. Professor McGonagall taught them to transfigure baskets into burning braziers. Her lessons started off cold and ended warmer than anyone considered possible-only Neville had failed to create a brazier of some sort, instead simply setting his basket on fire. It was spectacular, but in the end he spent most of the lesson using a dustpan and brush to sweep up the ash. In Defence against the Dark Arts, Professor Lupin, now returned after his unexplained illness, cancelled the essay on werewolves that Professor Snape had set and began to teach them about salamanders, which Harry and Ron were also covering in Care of Magical Creatures. Herbology lessons were bitterly cold, and most of them were spent wrapping the plants in heated blankets to stop them from mulching. The cold seemed to soften even Professor Snape's icy heart, as he replaced a long theory lesson with a practical session, which they all took advantage of to stand near their simmering cauldrons. Snape may have insisted he was doing this because their brewing was woeful, but Draco felt differently. The only lessons where heat played no role were artihmancy and ancient runes. Here, constrained by the purely theoretical nature of the subjects, they sat and shivered. Draco and Hermione were once more sitting next to each other-very much so, as everyone was huddling as close to their partners as possible to try and stay warm while the Professor prowled the room at double her normal pace, presumably trying to keep warm herself.

The cold weather also put back Hagrid's setting up of the cricket nets, a great shame in Draco's opinion, because he couldn't wait to get out and once more enjoy the sound of leather on willow.

That opportunity soon came. Almost as soon as the snows had arrived they went, winter's final throw of the dice inevitably defeated by the onset of spring. The trees were beginning to come out in leaf and the plants were blooming. The air outside was filled with the smell of fresh cut grass as Hagrid turned the area where the nets would be set up into a bald, stubbly lawn, perfect for cricket. Soon several large uprights were firmly mounted in the ground and Hagrid was hanging the nets from them. No sooner had he finished then the Gryffindor team were heading out for the first practice of the season.

'Right guys, rules are this. You get the guy in the nets out, he has to come out and the next person is in, Malfoy and me are in first. Have a warm up whilst we pad up.' Lee Jordan ordered. AS soon as Draco was padded up he boldly strode into the nearest net. What could the bowlers do to him? Who knows, but he was well protected and keen to try his new bat.

The first ball came flying down, a fast ball, straight from the hand of a seventh year, whose name Draco couldn't remember. It was going wide. Draco took a great step forward and drove the ball straight out of the net. Up and up it went. Was he going to be caught out? No, surely it had gone to far. It had. The ball touched the ground a good long way from anyone and the seventh year had to go on a run after it. That felt good. The next ball came down, bowled by Towler. It was spinning like blue fury and Draco wasn't going to take any risks. He knew how to play spin, just get the foot to the pitch of the ball and place the bat in the way, a simple forward defensive. The ball ricocheted off of the bat straight into the ground in front of him, good, he'd survived that ball. The ball ran off to the end of the net where the bowler stood, but it was going much faster than any ball Draco had played a forward defensive to before. It kept on going. Straight through the bowlers legs. The session went on, and in the other net a sucession of batsman came and went. No-one could bowl Draco though. He punished every ball that went wide by smacking it for what in a match would have been six runs. Those that were on line, he played carefully to keep the ball from hitting the stumps. Towler came in to ball for the umpteenth time today. This time, he bowled a slower ball. Draco didn't notice this however. He stepped forward to where the ball would pitch and played a forward defensive. The ball didn't arrive at the bat when he expected it to though. It arrived just after he had played his shot- the slower ball had worked! It had beaten Draco's defences. Would it hit the stumps? Surely it must. Yes, it had, the off bail had gone flying down to the back of the net and Draco's vigil ended.

Taking off his helmet, he began to walk out of the nets. That was that, time for someone else to have a go. AS the next batsman went in, Draco sat next to his bag and started to take off his pads and other gear. That had been tough. Just as he was about to stand up to have a bowl Lee Jordan came over.

'Bloody hell, Draco, is that bat nothing but a sweet spot? You were hitting it all over the place! I might have to stick you higher up the order if you think you can score like that in a match.'

'Thanks. Which net do you want me to bowl in?'

'Oh, take your pick.' Lee said and Draco did.

It had been a while since Draco had bowled. He had forgotten how much he enjoyed it. A few quick stretches to stop the shoulders going and he would be up. Taking one of the old balls from teh team bucket, he gripped it, one finger down either side of the seam. A nice quick trot up to the crease, over with the arm and release. Draco's momentum carried him forward a few paces as the ball went rapidly down the pitch. There was the sound of a bat swishing through the air, before Draco heard the sound of doom, the ball had hit the wickets and the bails had come off- in fact, middle stump was clean out of the ground- and he had bowled Rogerson. The fifth year didn't seem too happy about this, but walked nonetheless. That was the only ball that took a wicket for Draco that day- for some reason the batsmen played very cautiously to him after that- and by the end of the session he was exhausted.

Physical exhaustion did not help Draco sleep that night, there was too much on his mind. For the next day, Gryffindor played Ravenclaw at quidditch. What would happen if the dementors made another appearance? Harry said he'd been working on it- but would it be enough? It was only at great length that Draco eventually managed to get to sleep. The next day dawned, full of events yet to happen, and it was with anxious anticipation that the entirety of Gryffindor house trudged down to that fateful pitch, where the fate of Gryffindor in the house cup could ultimately be determined.

Lee Jordan was commentating already by the time Draco and Hermione arrived.

'...and it looks as though this is going to be an exciting match ahead of us. There will be questions being asked across the school about this one. Will Gryffindor manage to stay in the running? Or will Ravenclaw strip the chance from them? Only time will tell. Both teams have a strong line up today, unchanged from their previous matches, the only change today is that of the broom of Gryffindor's seeker. You will recall the exciting events at the end of the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor match where the broomstick of Harry Potter, the aforementioned seeker, was destroyed by the whomping willow in a terrifying dementor-induced accident. It has been replaced by none other than the most desirable broom...in the world. The Firebolt! It is the fastest broom in the world with a 0-150 time of..'

'JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!' Professor McGonagall suddenly boomed out, into the microphone.

'Right-ho Professor. Anyway, Madame Hooch is coming onto the field now to start the match. The Snitch is released. The bludgers. Now she is bending over to pick up the quaffle. She releases it into the air AND THE MATCH HAS BEGUN! A Ravenclaw chaser-I can't quite make out who- has taken the quaffle from the throw up she's tearing towards the Gryffindor goalposts, surely this is going to be a. NO! Wood has saved it. Gryffindor have possession and Watch out for that Bludger! My, that was a close one, as a bludger nearly knocks Alicia Spinet clean off of her broom. She's hung on though and is looking ready to score. Page manages to keep it out, but Gryffindor have retaken possession, you'll have to do better than that Stretton, much better. Bell has the quaffle, passes it to Johnson, lovely girl Angelina is, who shoots. SHE SCORES! Nice one Angelina! That puts the score at ten points to nil in favour of Gryffindor. This is looking like it is going to be an exciting game. AND BELL RETAKES THE QUAFFLE . SHE SHOOTS. SHE SCORES. Twenty points to nil. Up in the air, the seekers are flying lazily about scouting for the snitch, they don't seem to have spotted it yet and neither have I! '

'This is so exciting.' Squealed Neville in the stand where Draco had just arrived.

'Not half.' A huge cheer went up as Gryffindor scored another goal. It didn't die down until the Ravenclaw captain called for a time-out by which time the score was eighty points to none. A couple of quick goals afterwards though, and Ravenclaw were back in contention, if they could keep this up they could win and win well. It all depended on who could find the snitch first, a fact Lee Jordan picked up on soon enough.

'Who is going to find the snitch? Gryffindor have a real fight on their hands if they are to retain the lead they built up so quickly. Have they overstretched themselves? Are they tiring ? I don't know but Harry Potter has accelerated at such a pace! Has he seen the snitch. Chang doesn't follow, perhaps she doesn't feel that she can keep up with him, or else perhaps he's bluffing! Yes. That's it. Potter has come to a halt without catching the snitch- it was a bluff. AS Potter lazily turns round Ravenclaw once more have possession BUT POTTER IS ACCELEARTING AGAIN! HAS HE SEEN THE SNITCH? WE can only wait to find out. There's no way of telling from down here, he might be bluffing again. No Chang is chasing after it too. They have definitely seen something. What though? AND WHAT IS THAT. A BLACK HOODED FIGURE IS COMING ONTO THE PITCH. POTTER'S TAKEN HIS WAND OUT AND SHOT SOME WHITE SMOKY STUFF AT IT, BUT HE'S STILL GOING ON. He must have seen the snitch. AND POTTER HAS THE SNITCH! THAT'S ALL FOLKS. THE GAME IS OVER, GRYFFINDOR WIN TWO HUNDREED AND THIRY POINTS TO THIRTY!'

The party in Gryffindor tower lasted all night, and not even Professor McGonagall could put them to bed. The party went on into the small hours of the night, when finally the consensus was for bed. IT was a Monday the next day and everyone was eagerly anticipating the next match, which seemed a long way off.


	22. Chapter 22

Time seemed to fly past in the last few weeks of term and before anyone knew it, the Gryffindor-Slytherin final was only a couple of days away. The Gryffindor squad trained relentlessly, with a practise match every day, and more training for the first team. Draco also had regular nets, in which he was still proving next to impossible to get out. His bowling, whilst not going for many runs, was still not yielding wickets and his fielding desperately needed work. His throwing arm was weaker than the rest of the team's- Draco being considerably younger- and he couldn't run as fast either. Nonetheless, Lee had everyone training hard for the first match of the cricket season, which would come after the holidays.

Draco had just finished his essay and looked at his watch. What? That late already? The match was due to start in five minutes! Resigning himself to being late, he packed up his stuff and walked out of the Library, bloody McGonagall, why did her homeworks always take so long? As Draco walked quietly into the entrance hall, he heard the last snippet of a conversation between Filch and Professor Flitwick.

'The thing is, Argus, we can't get rid of the things. They're all that's keeping Hogwarts safe.'

'Why'd Black come to Hogwarts though?' the gloomy caretaker asked, seemingly thinking with despondency about all of the dirty shoes that would soon be returning from the match.

'Well, the thing about Sirius Black was that he was supposed to have been you-know-who's number two. Minerva told me it was him who betrayed the Potters to Voldemort. They were using a neat little spell known as the Fidelius charm to keep themselves hidden. It works by hiding the location of the hidden thing inside a living soul. So long as that person didn't tell Voldemort were they were the Potters were safe. James had chosen Black as this person.' Flitwick explained, as if he was talking to a slightly thick fourth year.

'So, Black betrayed the Potters? That's why young Potter has no...'

'no parents, exactly.' Flitwick said cheerfully, in exactly the same voice he used before he said "ten points to Gryffindor."

'Well, Black's supposed to be after Harry, thinks that by killing him, you-know-who will come back.'

'Complete nonsense of course.'

As the two men walked outside, Draco felt shocked. That was why Voldemort had come after Harry?

Draco made a mental note to tell Harry this as soon as possible. He did succeed, but not for a good week since Draco's cricket training had only gotten more intense after Gryffindor annihilated Slytherin at quidditch. Lee was determined not to let Wood have all the glory. Wood wasn't concerned about this however, floating around in a cloud of bliss, at having finally won the Quidditch Cup. Nothing else really mattered any more to him and he became a distraction to anyone trying to work in the common room, insisting on telling them all about how they'd won the cup.

Draco was politely nodding along to all this one afternoon, when Harry came back into the common room looking as white as a sheet. Draco saw him heading upstairs- probably straight into the dorm. Not long afterwards, Percy Weasley came in and Wood decided to move on to a less interested target or something. At any rate, Draco was now free to head upstairs.

'Hi Harry!' said Draco cheerfully as he opened the door to the dorm.

'Draco.'

'What's up? You don't look well.'

'Nothing much. Just a bit of a shock, that's all.'

'Care to explain?'

'Yeah. Alright. At the end of Divination- you know we've been doing crystal balls, right? Yeah, well, Hermione finally got the hump with Trelawney and just walked out, sending her crystal ball flying. I found it after we got downstairs, so I went to take it back up to Trelawney. When I was there she said something.'

'She said Something?' Draco said, incredulous that this could induce such a state in his friend.

'Yeah, her voice went all funny and she said that Voldemort would come back and that his servant would set out to get him back tonight. That was the gist of it anyway.'

'Whoa.' Draco looked over his shoulders to check no-one was about.

'Harry, there's something I think you ought to know. You know I was a bit late to the match? Well, when I was coming down overheard something not meant for my ears.'

'Go on.'

'It was about Sirius Black. I overheard Flitwick telling Filch about how he was Voldemort's second in command. Apparently, it was he who betrayed your parents to Voldemort.'

'What?' Harry's state of shock seemed to have deepened, but Draco carried on regardless. Harry needed to know this.

'Well, apparently the reason he's after you is to finish the job. Seems to think that by killing you he'll bring Voldemort back again.'

'Draco, can you not tell anyone else about this?'

'Of course. Do you fancy heading down to dinner? Ron said something about helping Hermione do some research- said they'd meet us in the great hall.'

'Ok then.'

Harry was still looking peaky by the time they had finished dinner, so Ron and Draco decided that what Harry needed most was a chat with Hagrid.

Heading down in the evening was easy now, with it still being light until late. As they arrived at the hut, it became clear that Hagrid was in and a large fire was blazing in the hearth, to ward off the chill of the evening air. When Hagrid welcomed them in, they could see the kettle boiling.

'Hallo you four! How are you.?'

'Yeah, good thanks Hagrid.' Three voices chimed back.

'What's up with you, Harry?'

'He's had a bit of a nasty shock.' Draco explained what Harry had told him earlier.

'Yeh could knock me down with a feather! That old bat has finally made a real prophecy!' Hagrid seemed pretty shocked at the news too, but advised Harry not to worry, as most prophecies didn't come true anyway.

'Well, it's been nice to see yeh, but I'm afraid I'm goin' to have to chuck yeh out now. Professor Dumbledore's coming down and eh'll be in loads of trouble if yeh stay here.'

'Hang on, that's him on the path down now. If we leave he'll see us!'

'Quick, out the back! Oh and before I forget, Ron, is this your rat?'

'Scabbers!' Ron was delighted to be reunited with his pet but didn't have time to give Hagrid all of the thanks that he wanted to give, as the others pulled him out of the back door. No sooner had they shut it then the front door opened with a great squeak.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. That had been close. Suddenly Ron gave out a muffled yell.

'What's up?' hissed Hermione.

'Scabbers bit me, Oi! Come back you daft rat!' Thus did the quartet end up chasing the rat through the Hogwarts grounds. At last they caught up with it.

'Got you, you bloody menace. Don't run away like that again, you understand?' Ron berated his rat. Suddenly they heard a snarling. It was a huge black dog.

'The Grim!' Ron yelled.

'Don't be silly, it's just a dog.' Hermione encouraged.

Just a dog or not, it still dived at Ron and clasping his leg in its mouth, dragged him towards a nearby tree, then down a small hole at the base of its trunk.

'Ron!' Hermione yelled.

'Err, guys. Have you seen what tree that is?'

THWACK! It was the Whomping Willow. Draco had not enjoyed picking up the splinters of Harry's broom there before, despite having escaped without a scratch. Now it seemed like the tree was after revenge for its earlier humiliation. After much ducking, diving, weaving and dodging Draco managed to get to the tree trunk. He slipped down the hole and was safe. No whomping roots- perhaps things really weren't all going downhill. Then Hermione landed on him. And Harry on top of her.

'Oouph.' Said Draco, as the air was knocked out of his lungs, 'Geroff'

'Sorry, Draco, are you alright?'

'I've just had two people land on me, but other than that, fine, thank you for asking.' Draco replied. Hermione looked slightly hurt.

'Does anyone know where we are?'

'I do,' Harry said, unexpectedly, 'Fred and George said there was a tunnel leading out of the grounds under the Whomping Willow when they gave me the map, we're in that.'

'Great. I suppose we better follow it then, and quickly if we ever want to see Ron again.'

Hermione blanched at that. Why though?

The tunnel continued downwards for what seemed like an age, twisting every which way. Occasionally, Draco, who was leading the way, would bang his head on a root. The seventh time this happened Draco stopped.

'I'm fed up with this. _Lumos_. That's better. Can see where I'm going now.'

'Why didn't we think of that earlier?' asked Hermione, who had spent a lot of time tripping over the uneven floor. Harry and Hermione lit the tips of their wands and carried on along the tunnel. In the dim light of their wands, the trio could see the faint outlines of the accumulation of years of cobwebs. The occasional skeleton of a small animal and the concentrated smell of earth about them gave the tunnel an oppressive air. The dark of the tunnel soon began to be replaced by dim beams of light from the far end. It appeared that they were nearing the final corner. As the tunnel began to slope upwards they felt their spirits lift, up and up it went. Soon the dank stony walls of the tunnel were replaced by wooden boards, through which light was leaking. With a quick mutter Draco extinguished his wand and began the final climb, up a ladder that led to an open trapdoor. On the bare floorboards of the dilapidated room into which Draco had climbed was a glistening trail of blood. Was Ron's leg worse than they had suspected? Or was it something far more terrible? Draco helped Harry and Hermione into the room out of the trapdoor. Looking around he noticed the place looked as if a whirlwind of destruction had swept through it. What had done this? Where were they? Then, just behind him came the answer to his question. The answer he least wanted to hear.

'We're in the Shrieking Shack!'

'Come on. Let's get a move on.' Said Draco, pointing to the trail of blood. The stairs creaked and groaned as they climbed them and the whole building seemed to sway. At the top of the stairs was what looked remarkably like a time-worn and semi-destroyed Gryffindor dormitory, with only one bed. In the corner opposite the open door lay Ron.

AS soon as they saw him, they rushed over. All Ron could say was.

'Trap. Not a dog. Man instead. He's...'

They turned round and there he stood.

'Sirius Black.' Ron finished, as the door came to a halt.

'If you want Harry, you'll have to go through all of us.' Hermione said, bravely standing in front of Harry. Draco joined her. Then suddenly, Sirius cast a spell and their wands went flying out of their hands. Another swish and Harry had lost this too. They were defenceless, against a homicidal maniac who had escaped from the most feared prison in the world to come after one of them. This didn't look good.

'Thirteen years, I've waited. Now I finally get the chance to begin what I started.' Black advanced menacingly at them. What was going to happen? He drew a sharp knife from somewhere in his ragged clothes and carried on walking towards them, as they shuffled back into the corner.

The door opened with a bang. In the doorway stood Professor Lupin. They were saved!

'Stop, Sirius.' He walked over to the dishevelled man and gave him a hug.

'Sorry about the fleas, Remus.'

'Good to see you too, Sirius.'

'What?' Hermione yelled from the corner. 'I've been covering up for you all year and your, your his friend!'

'What do you mean covering up, Hermione?'

'He's a werewolf!'

It was into a stunned silence, well, almost silence, Black was laughing in a way that sounded liek a man trying to remember how to laugh, that Lupin spoke.

'Yes, well done, Hermione, you really are the brightest witch of your age. I'm just curious- do you really think it wise to provoke a werewolf and his mass-murderer friend when you're not their primary target?'

'If you hurt Harry I'll kill you.' Draco tried to snarl. Unfortunately, his breaking voice turned the threat into a comic squeak.

'Hurt Harry?' Black laughed, confused. 'Why would I hurt Harry?'

'You escaped from Azkaban to come after him.' Ron pointed out.

'NoI didn't. I escaped from Azkaban to come after your rat, boy.'

'Scabbers? You're mad!'

'Scabbers? What's Scabbers?'

'I believe he means Pettigrew, Padfoot?'

'Pettigrew? Pettigrew died years ago. He killed him!' Hermione yelled. Draco's brain was in overdrive however on another matter. Padfoot, where had he heard that name before?

'Padfoot! You made the Maruader's map.' Draco exclaimed. 'Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. Well, Professor Lupin, I'm guessing you're Moony.'

'That's how you knew about the map when you took it from me!'

'Exactly Harry, we made it many years ago. I was Moony, Sirius, Padfoot. Your father, Harry, was Prongs. As for Wormtail, that was Peter Pettigrew. We called him Wormtail because of his animagus form. He was a rat.'

'You don't think Scabbers?'

'How long have you had that rat? Lived a long time for a common garden rat, don't you think?' Sirius said, menacingly, advancing on Ron. Ron tried to shuffle away as Black advanced, but with a leg that was badly broken he could do nothing. At that moment, for the second time, the door was flung open. Professor Snape wsa standing, like a menacing bat, in the shadow of the doorway.

'Caught red-handed, Lupin. I told Dumbledore that you'd been helping an old friend into the castle, but now I have proof!' Snape snarled, casting a disarming spell at Lupin and Black. Harry caught his wand in mid air.

'AS for you, Black. There're some dementors up at the castle who are longing to see you. They've really been missing you. So much so, that they want to give you a little kiss.' Snape said menacingly.

'Stop! Professor Snape, you've got it all wrong.' Hermione said. Snape ignored her. He raised his wand, ready to cast a spell at Black. He brought it down. A blinding flash of light filled the air. When it subsided, the room was very different. Snape had been flung into the bed, which had collapsed about him.

'You attacked a teacher!' Hermione said.

'So?' Harry and Draco responded together.

'What did you do to him?' Lupin asked.

'Expelliarmus.' Harry replied.

'Excio' Draco replied. When Lupin raised an eyebrow he simply replied, 'My Dad taught it me.'

'Well, it shouldn't do any lasting damage. Over to you, Sirius.'

Harry handed his wand over to Sirius, who tapped the rat rather hard on the head three times. Nothing happened.

'See, I told you he was just a rat.' Ron replied.

'Oh, he isn't.' The Marauders map never lies. It said Pettigrew was here. He's here. It's why I came tonight. I was studying it on my desk and saw Pettigrew's name.

Over in the corner Sirius made a small noise. It sounded like it might have been an attempt at a giggle.

'He's coming to play, Remus, he's coming!' Indeed he was. What had once been an ordinary rat was now considerably larger, and beginning to look more and more human.

'Sirius. Remus. My old friends.' The man replied. They gave him a look of utter disgust.

'You should have realised, Peter, if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would.'

'Please. No!' He scurried over to Ron, and begged for mercy. Next Draco, then Hermione. He got none from any of them. His faked disappearance had caused them all too much trouble.

In the end it was Harry who stopped Sirius and Lupin.

'Thank-you, my boy, thank-you.'

'No. It's just I don't think my dad would have wanted his two best friends to become killers. Besides, once we show you up at the castle, Sirius goes free.'

Even Sirius, denied his revenge for years of misery, seemed satisfied with this. Accordingly, Lupin levitated Snape's body and sent it out in front of them. Harry and Hermione were supporting Ron, and Pettigrew was at Draco's wand point. The column advanced slowly back towards the castle. Sirius, who seemed to want to keep an eye on Pettigrew as well, was at the back with Draco, using Ron's wand to keep an eye on the former pet.

'Sorry if I scared you earlier, boy.'

'Oh, don't worry. You weren't trying to do it.' Draco replied manfully.

'I'm afraid I didn't quite catch your name when Remus gave the introductions, lad, but you're doing a fine job keeping the scum in check.'

'Thanks. The name's Draco by the way, Draco Malfoy.'

'What? You're Narcissa's boy?'

'Yeah. Someone told me we were cousins or something.'

'Sounds about right. Well, if you're family I can trust you to look after this creep while I catch up with my godson.'

Black started walking faster and soon caught up with Harry. Draco merely concentrated on keeping Pettigrew under control. Eventually they reached the Whomping Willow, where they left the tunnel into the pale moonlight, having stunned the tree. It was here that Lupin gave a great howl.

'Leave this to me. Just run!' Sirius yelled. As a large black dog took on a fully grown werewolf, Draco 's attention slipped for a moment. Then Pettigrew transformed into a rat. Draco knew it was now or never. Ignoring the opportunity to run, he dived onto the fleeing rat and ended up flat out, face down on the grass. In his outstretched arms however, was a wriggling rat. Draco slowly got to his feet and ran. When he got back he heard that a terrible thing had happened. Sirius had been captured. Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the hospital wing recovering from a nasty dementor attack. How they had gotten there so fast, Draco had no idea. Despite the late hour, he rushed up to the hospital wing, where he found the Minister for Magic and Professors Snape and Dumbledore as wellas the ministers three bodyguards, each one a crack auror.

'Well, no I can't grant your request to watch, Severus. Guilty as the man may be it's not allowed.'

'Quite so Severus, I really can't advise it.' Dumbledore replied. The conversation stoped as a breathless Draco approached.

'Uncle Cornelius, you've got the wrong man.' Draco managed to get out between pants.

'We've got Black, what do you mean?' The minister asked.

'Black's innocent.' Draco explained. 'It was Peter Pettigrew who killed all those people and betrayed the Potters.'

'Pettigrew's dead boy.'

'No he isn't. He's right here in this room. He was an unregistered animagus. Here.' Draco said, showing the rat, which he held dangling by its tail.

'Really minister, are you going to believe that pile of old poppycock.' Snape scorned.

'Now Severus, we can easily tell whether young Malfoy's telling the truth or not, can't we.' The pair exchanged a knowing glance.

'Oh, you mean transform him back?' Fudge said, catching hold of an idea at last.

'That would do it, Cornelius.' Dumbledore replied. The old wizard waved his wand and suddenly Draco was holding onto a man.

'Well damn me.' Said Fudge. 'I'd better cancel the kiss on Black. This'll have to go to trial, but I reckon there's enough evidence to give Black a pardon now. '

Fudge waved at an auror and whispered an instruction in his ear. The auror went scampering off and another one took his place. This second bodyguard took over the custody of Pettigrew and began to escort him to the dementors. Within two minutes he was back.

'The bugger transformed. I lost him!' The auror lamented.

'What?' Yelled Harry from his bed. 'Then all of that was for nothing!'

The auror hung his head in shame and Fudge, Snape and the bodyguards quickly left.

'No Harry,' said Dumbledore, walking down to where the raven-haired boy sat, 'it wasn't all wasted. An innocent man has gone free, been spared a terrible fate and gotten his life back. If it wasn't for Mr Malfoy here, who knows what would have happened?'

'But it doesn't matter does it. They've let Pettigrew escape!' Harry sat and thought for a moment and only spoke as Dumbledore had turned to leave.

'Professor? After divination this morning, Professor Trelawney said something funny.'

'Oh yes?'

'She said that the dark lord's servant would set out to rejoin him tonight. That with the servant's aid, Voldemort would return, stronger than before.'

'Ahh. I say. I must arrange to give Professor Trelawney a pay rise, that brings her collection of real prophecies up to, yes, two.'

'So you think he's coming back then, Sir?'

'Oh yes. Voldemort was always going to come back some day. But I shouldn't worry too much if I were you. You did a powerful thing when you saved Pettigrew's life today. It has formed a bond between you.'

'But I don't want a bond between me and Pettigrew.'

'You have one now and there is little that can be done. At any rate, I very much doubt that Voldemort will want a servant who is so highly in your debt.'

'Sirius will go free, won't he, Sir?'

'Oh yes, have no doubt about that my boy. Now get a good night's sleep. You're going to want to be well rested tomorrow.' Dumbledore said prophetically.

As soon as Dumbledore had left, Draco jumped onto the spare bed opposite Hermione's and turned his head over to Harry.

'Sorry Pettigrew escaped, Harry.'

'Never mind, Draco, it wasn't your fault.'

'Harry, you seem rather pleased about it all.'

'Yes. Well, I managed to pull off an amazing Patronus earlier- it was a full one and everything. I overheard Dumbledore say that it had probably saved Sirius.'

'You managed a full patronus? How? What memory did you use?'

'One from earlier tonight. Sirius invited me to live with him.'

'He did?'

'Yeah, and thanks to you bringing Pettigrew in, it's gonna happen. I get to leave the Dursleys.'

Draco was happy for his friend ], but more importantly he was proud. He wasn't useless. He'd saved someone's life and managed to bring about significant change in someone else's. Smug thoughts enveloped Draco and before long, he had fallen fast asleep.


	23. Chapter 23

Draco was braced for questions when he went to breakfast, after all, Neville and the rest of the dorm surely would have noticed them not being there last night. They had and asked a few questions over breakfast, which Harry explained- it was mainly his news to tell, after all. Then the Daily Prophet arrived. The daily arrival of over one hundred nearly identical owls was no longer a shock to anyone, but what they carried certainly was.

**BLACK INNOCENT**

the main headline read. Underneath it was an article explaining the events of the previous night, albeit heavily abridged, and saying that Sirius had been awarded a full pardon, those estates of his that had been confiscated were to be returned and his funds unfrozen. The stunned silence that was across the hall was soon filled by a frantic whispering, like the fuse of a time-bomb waiting to go off. Then Harry, who had just finished his breakfast stood up. The effect was instantaneous. Across all four house tables, heads shot up from the nearest paper and looked at Harry. It had said in the article, which Draco was still reading, how Harry had proved Black's innocence- no mention of his own dealings with that rat!-and everyone knew it. Thousands of shouted questions assaulted them from all sides. Harry couldn't answer them- after all he couldn't even hear them over the racket.

A crowd of people were rushing them from all sides, everyone apparently determined to get their questions answered.

It took all of the teachers a good five minutes to clear the hall and it was only when Dumbledore offered to give a full explanation that peace finally returned to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. Even Dumbledore's retelling of events was insufficient to sate the curiosity of the gossip-hungry student body and in the next few weeks everyone was asking the four of them who had been there all about it. The Slytherins even forgot their enmity with Gryffindor House to ask questions, since Professor Snape had been unable to give them much information and had refused to do so.

The questions died away, however, with the onset of exam season.

Hermione was going into overdrive. Lessons may have been concentrating on revision, but she was even more so. Whenever anyone saw her, she seemed to have a book in her hand. After all, she had taken a lot of classes, hadn't she? An awful lot. Some might say an impossible amount, at least, anyone who had looked at a Hogwarts timetable would. The thought stuck in Draco's head. How was she doing it? How had she kept it secret? He knew that she was two-timing on him in arithmancy, which was on at the same time as Care of Magical creatures on Monday mornings. How could she be in two places at once? A twin? No, that couldn't be it, he'd have noticed discrepancies. No one could be in two places, at least not at the same time, could they?

Same time? What if she wasn't there at the same time? Slowly Draco's mind brought a memory to the surface, a memory long ago made, and little understood. He had seen it a good five years ago. The minister of magic had been talking to his father.

'Well, Cornelius, it can be arranged, but I'm afraid that I simply do not have _the time_ required to do everything. I am sure you understand me/'

'A time turner? Yes, I'm sure that can be arranged.'

Could that be it, a time turner? What was a time-turner? There was only one way to find out. Library.

Draco didn't run to the library, there was no need, but he wasn't exactly walking slowly either. AS he walked, he thought. Time turners. Where would I find out about them? Potions, no. Charms, maybe? Worth a start there, but to be honest...

The first book Draco found was useless, so was the second. The third, entitled Time Magic, turned out to be a study of the effects of the phases of the moon on a wizard's power. No good either. The fourth however, did at least mention them.

_The time turner is a rare device able to transfer the user through time. Its use is highly restricted by all governments._

That was it. That was what Hermione was using. What to do about it? Well, nothing. She must have gotten it from McGonagall or Dumbledore or something, so it was probably perfectly legal. There wasn't anything to worry about, except for the exams.

In the weeks before exams, Draco began to do less and less work, whilst everyone else was doing more and more. He felt that he'd put the work in throughout the year and so he'd be okay.

In the event, he was.

The first exam was transfiguration, in which Draco was asked to turn a teapot into a tortoise. Draco pulled it off admirably, with a giant one appearing on Professor McGonagall's desk, which groaned under the strain before breaking. The conversation in the common room that evening was a bit odd.

'I think I did okay- was it still supposed to be breathing steam?' asked one.

'Mine still had a wicker pattern on the shell, do you think that will count against me?' asked another.

Hermione was duly complaining of her lack of perfection. 'I think it looked more like a turtle than a tortoise, really. Do you think she'll hold it against me?'

'No chance. I managed to whack out a Galapagos tortoise.'

'But they're huge, aren't they?'

'Yep. One moment McGonagall has a teapot on her desk, the next moment a giant tortoise sitting in a pile of splinters. Hermione, if you think she'll hold it against you for making a turtle, what do you think she'll do to me for breaking her desk?' They all had a good laugh over that, before Hermione cajoled Harry and Ron into doing some work.

The next exam was charms, in which they had to cast cheering charms, Draco pulled his off neatly, leaving Hermione smiling. Hermione's own spell left him feeling warm and fuzzy inside. Again, he cracked a broad smile. Professor Flitwick nodded approvingly and told them to send the next pair in.

In Potions, Draco nearly ran out of time to brew his confusing concoction, which he had made perhaps a little strong, certainly Snape raised his eyebrows when he saw the intensity of the colour.

Nonetheless, Draco found he had passed all of his exams and passed them well , so it was with a great deal of confidence that he began to enjoy the remainder of the term. It was not however, an unbusy time. Lee had stepped up cricket practise after the exams, since the first match was now close.

The match against Slytherin started in style, with Lee losing the toss and being out in to bat.

The commentary team for the cricket season was led by Professor Dumbledore himself, with the expert summarizers being headed by Argus Filch. The commentary was broadcast throughout the school, so that people could still carry on doing what they were doing without missing any of the action, for at Hogwarts, they played the three-day version of the game.

'Well, it's the start of the Hogwarts quidditch season once more, and we are here at the school ground, sitting at the Castle End, waiting for play to begin. The umpires walk out into the centre of the field and the fielding side follows. The umpires today are Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout. Gryffindor lost the toss today and were put in to bat by Slytherin captain, Alexander Blishwick. Here come the Gryffindor opening bats, two of the three brothers on the team, Percy and Fred Weasley. Percy is taking the strike and has taken his guard, middle and leg by the looks of things. An unusual guard to take, isn't it Filchers?'

'Oh yes, Dumbles, I haven't seen anyone take that guard in School Cricket for a good forty years. An unusual strategy.'

'And Peter Brewer of Slytherin is coming in to bowl. He's bowling left arm over the wicket and Percy Weasley's blocked him. They don't take a run and the score remains nought for nought. Can you remember the last time that we had two members of the same family opening the batting for a house?'

'No I can't, perhaps Veckers might know.'

Professor Vector looked up from her scorebook and consulted her books.

'The last time that two brothers opened the batting in a match was 1741, when they were playing for different houses, however the Hufflepuff team of 1789 consisted of seven brothers batting between three and ten.'

'Thank you Veckers, whilst we have been looking up the past, the first over has been completed, with Gryffindor taking a single bye. The score is one for nought as Xavier Atkins comes in to bowl. I must say, it's a bit unusual to have put the spinner on so early. Do you think this means Slytherin have given up hope?'

'No. There's no way that you'd put a spinner on so early in the match unless you've got something up your sleeve, the track has simply got nothing in it for them yet. If this was the third day, then it might be worth a shot, but now?'

'Yes, I quite agree Filchers, I simply can't work out why that might be myself. But perhaps we might be able to tell as he bowls to Percy Weasley who leaves it be. The ball goes straight to the keeper and that's that. Nothing particularly threatening there, do you think?'

'Nothing that I can see, Dumbles.' Filch replied.

'Well, perhaps we might see something in the next ball. Professor Sprout calls a no ball as Atkins' foot was well over the line when he bowled that. Weasley's smacked it, but it's gone straight to a fielder.'

'It's good to see him playing a bit more positively.'

'Yes, and as Atkins bowls the next ball WEASLEY'S GONE! HE'S GONE! HE'S OUT! CLEAN BOWLED. Well, I don't think I've seen middle stump been knocked so far out of the ground by a spinner before, I think he was guilty of playing down the charms corridor when the ball was going down the transfiguration corridor, but the replay will show us what happened. Yes, he played down the wrong line and Percy Weasley is out, the score is now 2 for 1, and the Gryffindor captain is coming in. Lee Jordan takes his guard from Professor Flitwick and Atkins comes to bowl again. Jordan plays the forward defensive and the ball stops at his feet. A good start, would you say?'

'Well, from one ball it's a good as start as any I suppose. Now I'm going to have a few words while McGonners takes over the commentator's chair. This is proving to be an exciting game, with the Gryffindor opener out so early, but then anyone, no matter how great, can easily make a mistake while they are yet to play themselves in and I suspect a case of pre-match nerves may be the likely culprits here, don't you agree,?'

'Oh yes.' The curt tones of Minerva McGonagall stated as she took over the air waves for the next forty-five minutes.

'Well, at the end of that spell, Gryffindor have taken thirty runs for the loss of one wicket, which was the opening bat, Percy Weasley to Atkins. Despite a near run out captain Jordan has managed to steady the ship and the second partnership seems to be settling down for the long haul. AS we go to the first drinks break, Dumbles will be returning to the commentary box, and then Filchers will be substituted for Sluggers. Dumbles, have you had any of the chocolate cake yet? It really is excellent?'

There was a brief silence.

'Yes thank you McGonners, I just had some in my mouth then as you well know. Well, it really has been an exciting morning's cricket so far as we enter the drinks break. Ahh, Sluggers, my dear old thing, how are you doing?'

'Well thank you Dumbles. I must say, this is an exciting match isn't it. I've been watching it from the boundary and I feel that some of the cricket has been really excellent, don't you agree?'

'Oh yes, quite so. The four from Fred Weasley was particularly elegant.'

'Yes, exquisite sense of timing that boy has, perhaps it comes from his beater training in quidditch?'

'Perhaps, but as the drinks carriers in their fluorescent yellow bibs go off of the field, play resumes with Matthew Broderick taking up the ball for the first time from the Pavillion end. Broderick is a seam bowler, right arm round the wicket, and he runs up and he bowls to left hander Lee Jordan, who. MY WORD WHAT A SHOT. He's cut him for six over long leg's head. That really is a great way to start off a new spell, putting doubts into the bowler's head before he's begun.'

'Yes, I never could stand it when I got tonked for six when I was bowling, and to have it so early on in the over is bound to affect the young man's concentration unless he takes a wicket very soon.'

He didn't nor did any of the other bowlers.

'Well, it has been lovely talking with you Sluggers, but as we go into the lunch break it is time for our regular lunchtime slot, where today I shall be interviewing our very own Rubeus Hagrid about the fauna of the Forbidden forest.'

Draco hadn't been listening to the radio broadcast, which was kept out of the dressing rooms and the pitch by powerful enchantments. He was however concerned when Lee Jordan came back in, and gave the team a quick briefing on the conditions.

'It's getting a lot faster as the pitch is drying out in the sun. Should be great for bowling, but first we have to get a decent total, we've made a reasonable start, but to be honest with you, 79 for 1 really isn't anywhere near where we need to be right now. They've been stopping us from scoring as we want. After lunch, we'll have to start playing a lot more positively.' Jordan said.

After lunch they did start playing more confidently and the wickets began to fall. Before long Draco was in.

'And as the wicket of Henry Parker falls, Gryffindor's youngest player is coming in. Draco Malfoy, the number five batsman, is a relative unknown, although I hear that in the nets he's supposed to be devilishly tricky to bowl.'

'Yes, but there's really no substitute for time out in the middle and he hasn't had any of that. There's been some real quality bowling today as well, the ball that claimed the scalp of Fred Weasley was a notable one, really fast.'

'Yes, I quite agree Filchers, but we shall have to see how the young man, who has apparently been given the nickname of "The Immovable Object " lives up to it. Brewer comes into bowl for the first ball after lunch and Malfoy plays a forward defensive at it Wow! Did you see how fast that came of the bat? Malfoy has played a forward defensive and the ball has just shot straight through the legs of mid on and into the crowd of pigeons near the boundary where it is picked up by Ian Bole of Slytherin, who tosses it in to the bowlers end, no chance of a run out though, Both batsman are safely back within their ground having run three. Fred Weasley on strike now to face the next ball. Brewer comes in off of his long run up and bowls, now that ball really moved off of the pitch, I do believe we have seen our first swing of the day.'

'Yes, it looked like that ball swung to me, that is great news for Brodwick who really likes swingy condition, Dumbles.'

'Yes, that ball goes wide of the keeper's gloves, but is stopped by a running third man. Nothing exciting there really, just some standard fielding for Higgs, who really is excellent at the groundwork. Now we shall see what happens next.'

HOWZATTT!

'Hang on, Slytherin have appealed, presumably for LBW, as that last ball from Brewer strikes Weasley on the pad. If Flitwick thought that was going on to hit the stumps then he is out. Flitwick is looking over to Sprout at square leg, she can't help him of course, not for an LBW decision. Flitwick has raised the finger. HE'S OUT!'

'Yes, he scored 37 runs there and the fall of his wicket brings the score to 89 for 5.'

'Thanks Veckers, the Gryffindor ship is really beginning to wobble now, with only one more recognised batsman due in before the tail is exposed to one of the finest bowling attacks at Hogwarts. Here comes Quentin Andrews.'

Andrews and Draco managed to see Gryffindor round to the tea break, with Draco taking 47 runs off of twenty exacting overs. In the dressing rooms, Draco vigorously towelled the sweat off his back before downing a small cake and a large bottle of water.

'Keep it up guys, just play for time now and keep on scoring as you have been, you're doing brilliantly.' Lee encouraged them, 'If we make our innings go on to the last couple of overs we should have a bowl at them in the poor light, which will help against their openers. We might even have enough runs by then to give them something respectable to chase. Now see to it guys, but don't take risks. You know what will happen if we do that.'

They certainly did. You took risks, you got out. It was as certain as the results of the last quidditch season. After another two hours, the light was beginning to fade and the batting began to become trickier. There were only seven overs left in the day now, Draco reckoned. How would they go? In the commentary box, Professor McGonagall was glad of the break that came when Dumbledore relieved her, a chance to get some water after yet another marathon session of commentating.

'Well, we'll see you later McGonners, but now Higgs is bowling an over, presumably so Blishwick can change the end that one of his bowlers is bowling at. Mind you, it could just be to give the proper bowlers a break, they must be getting very tired now at the end of a long day's play.'

'Yes, and it won't be helping them that they haven't had any wickets since just after lunch. This partnership is really looking settled now, neither batsman look like they are going to be dislodged.'

'Yes, Sluggers, they really do look almost comfortable out there. That can be dangerous though. Malfoy's nearing his century and the big question for Slytherin is does he suffer from the nervous nineties? Well, it seems like he doesn't as he is now on 98 not out, and Andrews is on 76, making this the highest scoring partnership of the match so far. Shriver comes in to bowl to Malfoy and he's skied it, it's going straight to long on. Surely he is going to be caught. No! He's been dropped! Malfoy put down on 98,that could prove costly, as Malfoy gets put down on debut for 98. He's looking relieved and it's nice to know that even the immovable object suffers from the nervous nineties to some extent. Shriver again bowls to Malfoy, who drives this one nicely through mid wicket. Is it going to reach the boundary? There's a fielder chasing it and he might. No It's gone for four! Malfoy has made his century on debut for Gryffindor!'

'That also makes him the youngest player to get a century on debut for any house. Just four days younger than the previous holder of the record, Isaac Willis, who has held the records since 1842.' Professor Vector informed the listeners.

'And that's the end of the over. Blishwick is having a chat with the keeper, and throws the ball to Zabini, another newcomer to the Slytherin team, and by no means a bowler. Well, if you're desperate for a breakthough you do tend to try anything don't you , Sluggers.'

'Oh yes. I was playing a match in '69, when..'

'I'm sorry to interrupt you, Sluggers, but Zabini has just bowled Andrews! Andrews in a terrible misjudgement left the ball and it took out his off stump. The keeper Crabbe caught the bails to add insult to injury and Andrews is on his way. This changes everything.'

'Yes, the Gryffindor tail is now exposed to the Slytherin bowling attack and there's no way they're going to last long save for some miracle. The only question left is will Gryffindor send out the night-watchman or not?'

Lee sent in Richards, the number 7, not wanting to disrupt his order. In these conditions though, he had no chance to play himself in before he too was dispatched. All of a sudden there was a panic on, and a Gryffindor collapse seemed inevitable. Draco stood at the bowler's end as the final four wickets fell in quick succession. As it was now too late for Slytherin to go in, the umpires knocked the bails off the stumps and called a halt to the day's play.

Play resumed at eleven O'clock the next day with Gryffindor bowling to Slytherin. What would happen now? They had a target of 289 to draw level with Gryffindor, but with two innings a side to get through to avoid a draw, one side would have to do phenomenally well do get a result.

Dumbledore resumed the commentary where he had left off, with Argus Filch by his side.

'Welcome back to the Gryffindor versus Slytherin match, listeners,the weather is looking good for today and we shall need it to stay like that if we are to get a result, with Ryffindor having batted all day yesterday to score 289 runs leaving Slytherin 90 runs to get to avoid being asked to follow on. That should be achievable, don't you think, Filchers?'

'Oh, yes Dumbles, With all-rounders Brodwick and Shriver in their line up, Slytherin have a very deep batting order, with the true tail end only consisting of two batsmen. Ninety runs shouldn't present too tough a target for them, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they'll make it, after all, batting collapses have been known to happen- just look at Gryffindor last night after the fall of Andrews.'

'Yes, that was a quick collapse, but the result of today's play really can only be guessed at, with all results still possible, though a draw is perhaps the firm favourite. Now, Alicia Spinnet is opening the bowling attack for Gryffindor from the Castle end and she's got a lovely shiny new ball in her hand. Spinnet was a new find for Gryffindor last year, and she proved to be utterly devastating against right handed bats so as she starts her run up we can now watch the first ball of the day which Blishwick carefully plays into the ground. That was a lovely ball well defended. The commentary team would like to thank Madame Rosmerta for the excellent chocolate cake she sent us yesterday, it really was quite delicious. Spinnet bowls again and Blishwick has skied it, it is going straight to the fielder at deep mid wicket, who I believe is Draco Malfoy. WE haven't seen much of his fielding yet, I wonder if he is, yes! He's caught it! There was a bit of a fumble there, but Malfoy caught it before it dropped to the ground, Blishwick is out. What an excellent game young Malfoy is having to be sure, following an excellent stand with the bat with a good start in the field. Now from the pavilion we can see Higgs coming on to the field, rolling his shoulders and swinging his bat, he's normally a very aggressive player, keen to get after the bowlers, and he's never really happy until he's into double figures at least. We may see some adventurous play here. Spinnet comes in again and bowls, the third ball of her over, that was lovely and Higgs is forced to play a backwards defensive to a short ball that really was quite nasty. Spinnet clearly trying to intimidate the batsman here, before he gets a chance to do anything. What is going to happen next is anyone's guess, as spinet bowls her fourth ball. Higgs plays and misses and the ball is taken by Richards, the Gryffindor keeper. WE are not seeing Higgs' usual adventurous game going on here, has he adopted a new mindset or has the bowling got the better of him. We'll soon find out as Spinnet bowls the penultimate ball of her over and Higgs glances it to third man. He's itching to go but Zabini yells no and they don't run. Higgs looks rather annoyed at that, he can't stand being on zero and who can blame him? Spinnet bowls the last ball of her over and Higgs plays a Chinese cut! The ball's gone straight through his legs to square man but Higgs has set off! What is he doing? The ball comes swiftly in to the keepers end and there's a run out! But who was it? Had the batsmen crossed when the bails left the stumps? A nice bit of fielding from Roach has cost Slytherin a wicket. Here we go, the umpires are having a conversation in the middle, they can't tell who was out either. But it looks as if they have made their decision, Sprout raises the finger of doom to Higgs and he's on his way back to the pavilion, out for a duck, making that a double wicket maiden for Spinnet. Now that has changed the face of the game.'

Dumbledore concluded.

'Yes it has, at the beginning of the over we were asking ourselves whether there would be a result, now it looks as if there will be, unless the Slytherin middle order can really dig themselves out of a hole here. We've also got the added factor of pressure, Zabini may be half used to coming in without a score on the board as an opener, but the number four most certainly won't be. Pressure can do funny things to people's minds. They can try too hard to get off the mark and end up being out, just like Higgs was there. There's something I always do, which is add two wickets to the scoreboard and see how the game situation looks like then. 0 for 4 is not a comfortable place to be at all.'

'No it isn't Filchers, Gryffindor are bringing on George Weasley, a demon fast bowler who relies on pure pace to beat the batsman, which of course is helped hugely by his height. As George Weasley comes in to bowl we say goodbye to Filchers as Sluggers is joining us for the remainder of the morning session. Morning Sluggers!'

'Good Morning Dumbles, and it is a delight to be watching the cricket this morning, it really is some of the finest I have seen for a good long while.'

'Yes it is, Weasley comes in and Zabini plays a loose cover drive and the ball goes tearing away to the boundary, bringing Slytherin off the mark with four.'

That was the beginning of a long partnership, if a slow scoring one. Whilst the Gryffindor bowlers had managed to keep the scoring down and the pressure up, by Lunchtime, Slytherin were on 52 for 2.

As Dumbledore interviewed Sirius Black about his time in Azkaban for some Lunchtime entertainment, Lee was giving the team yet another pep talk.

'Right, we're doing a good job here, keeping the pressure nice and high. With the run rate so low we know we've got them on the run, but we need wickets to stop them playing for the draw. We're going to go for a change of bowling attack for the first few overs, they seem to have gotten used to you lot.' Lee gestured towards the Gryffindor bowlers, 'so we're going to bring on Draco for a spell, see what they make of that, and from the other end I want Alicia to bowl.' Right let's go and enjoy a nice bit of grub and then get our minds back in the game.'

When play resumed, Draco was bowling from the Pavilion end.

'Well, this is a surprise, Jordan has brought Malfoy on to bowl an over.' McGonagall commented, 'He really seems to be at a loose end to break this partnership, which seems to be settling the Slytherin team in much the same way that Malfoy and Andrews did yesterday. Malfoy comes in to bowl right arm over the wicket and HE'S YORKED HIM! Zabini is out to a ball that was considerably full of a length. '

'A good Yorker can be devilishly tricky to play, Minerva, there really is no easy way of doing it and that was just lovely.'

'Yes it was, wasn't it Argus. Anyway, Ian Bole is coming in now, he's been sitting in his pads for a while and the score is 52 for 3. Malfoy comes in to bowl at Bole. That's a huge appeal. The ball has struck Bole on the pads and the entire Gryffindor team has gone up for it. Sprout has given him out, quite right too, it was plum LBW. So Malfoy is suddenly on a hat trick, the question now is will he be able to take it? Gryffindor really beginning to make progress now as the fourth wicket falls after lunch for a duck. Next in is Crabbe, the Slytherin keeper. He joined the team last year and has excellent reflexes, able to take a good many sudden catches, but he hasn't had a great go with the bat yet, his average must be in the low teens.'

'Yes, quite so McGonners, his average is 13 and he has been out three times to right arm bowlers'

'Thank you Veckers, this really is most exciting. Malfoy is on a hat trick and he's come in to bowl to Crabbe. HE'S GONE! MALFOY AHS BOWLED HIM! This is truly remarkable, the first hat trick at Hogwarts that I can remember.'

'The last Hat trick was in 1912. There have been two hat tricks before that in 1817 and 1911.'

'Now Goyle is in, another powerful hitter who usually can send the ball flying over the boundary. The Slytherin ship is really rocking now, as it looks like a collapse is inevitable. Malfoy bowls and Goyle misses but so does the keeper and the ball goes to the boundary for a four, bringing the Slytherin score up to 56 for 5. That really is not a nice place to be. Do you think that reopens the question of the follow-on, Filchers?'

'Well, not really, there would have to be a remarkable session of play for Slytherin not to manage to get thirty four runs for the loss of the next five wickets, but that's the excitement of cricket isn't it? Anything can happen.'

Alicia bowled a maiden over and Lee put Draco back on to bowl. Three runs went off the over, before he was once more bowling to Montague.

'Montague is beginning to look quite settled now as he takes a quick walk to one side, killing time before the drinks break, which is going to happen at the end of this over. There's just enough time for a few short words from Argus whilst Dumbles takes over the commentary and I go and grab some lunch.'

'Thank you McGonners, Malfoy is bowling to Montague in a very confident manner, only two balls left in the over which is now reduced to one ball left as Montague plays the ball straight to square leg. Malfoy seems to be signalling the dressing room, someone is coming out with a helmet and leg pads. Malfoy is changing his field. He's getting rid of the deep extra cover and is bringing Towler in to silly mid on. That really is close, so there's no wonder that the helmet's wanted, any ball coming straight off of the bat could really do some damage at that distance. Malfoy comes in to bowl and Higgs is looking uncomfortable, the three slips and a gully are all making him feel very claustrophobic.'

'Yes, I quite agree, perhaps Malfoy has got a new strategy for getting Montague out? He comes in to bowl, the final ball of the over and Higgs has sent the ball flying over the top of the close fielders in a lovely cover drive that is going out to where Towler used to be. But who's that standing there now? Captain Lee Jordan is standing in the gap, where he had placed himself unnoticed by anyone, including the batsman. Jordan takes an easy catch and Montague is dismissed for 3. A good knock, but possibly not enough to save the match. Goyle and Broderick are now in, Goyle will be on strike after the drinks break.'

'Yes, I've been wondering about the Gryffindor strategy, that was an excellent wicket, with some cunning field placement, but surely with the ball getting old it must be time to bring the spinner on? The pitch is really beginning to have that nice bit of wear that will provide the grip that Towler needs, and he really is an excellent bowler.'

The Gryffindor team was thinking the same thing, and the first over after the drinks break was taken by Towler, who soon claimed the scalps of Broderick, Shriver and Goyle cery cheaply. The score was now 84 for 9, with only Atkins and Brewer left. One wicket would see the end of the innings, before tea as well, which would be brilliant news. Draco came on to bowl the last over of his spell. A devilish ball that went straight down the pitch saw Brewer play a leave and the ball sailed passed the batsman to take out the off stump. The innings was over. Gryffindor had a definite advantage.

'How do the bowlers feel? Asked Lee, definitely including Draco in this category.

'Not too tired, thinking of the follow on?' George replied.

'Absolutely, if we can bowl them out cheaply we might win. There's no way I want to risk them catching up with a declaration, so it's that or likely a draw. You up for it'

'YEAH!' a resounding roar was Lee's only answer.

'Good, I'll pop round and ask Blishwick to follow on now.'

Draco took another two wickets as Gryffindor brought the Slytherin team crumbling down for a second time before the end of play. Gryffindor had won the match, by an innings and 72 runs. Draco found himself a hero in the common room that night, as the man who had won the match with his exquisite batting and bowling performances. That night Draco wrote to his uncle, to tell him about how the match had gone before heading to bed.


	24. Chapter 24

Draco spent the next few weeks playing cricket and practising in the nets. There was a bit of down time between the matches, which was full of practise and rests, despite the comparative shortness of the cricket season at Hogwarts, Lee was no less fanatical than Wood when it came to Gryffindor winning and it showed. What was a quick cricket practise went on for four times as long as any of the quidditch sessions Draco had been to. No-one on the team begrudged Lee this though, they all burned with a desire to win, and it wasn't just the cricket shield that hung in the balance, the house cup competition was so close, that the points for winning the shield could make any of the houses win the competition. Hufflepuff soundly beat Ravenclaw by two runs in the other of the first round of matches in the league, Gryffindor where due to play Ravenclaw next and Draco and the team practised hard. Too hard, perhaps, for when they did play the match, they seemed over-tired. They still managed to win, but by the smallest margin imaginable, winning off of the last ball of the match with only one wicket in hand. George Weasley sent the ball for six, making up the five run deficit and taking the lead in one of the closest fought matches of the season. That night Gryffindor partied hard, but the next morning the team was doing fitness training, before getting the afternoon off.

For once, the Gryffindors forgot their rivalry with the Slytherins. Hufflepuff may have been in fourth place and Gryffindor in first, but with less than forty points separating them, whoever won the cricket match would take the house cup.

The match started well for Hufflepuff. Lee had won the toss, and deciding that the conditions for batting would improve as time went on, put Hufflepuff in to bat. It was a terrible decision. The opening pair entrenched themselves and had both scored centuries by lunchtime. They racked up the runs and looked to be dominating the game. Then Lee gave himself an over. Whether the batsman were looking to play all of his balls for six, he never knew, but soon the Hufflepuff opener had launched the ball into the air, where it came down neatly into the waiting hands of Percy Weasley. A few more wickets fell that day, but when Hufflepuff reached the mid three hundreds, Cedric Diggory, the captain, declared. Gryffindor were in to bat, needing 387 runs to draw level in order to win the game. That night in the common room, the whole house was disconsolate. The match was going terribly, and with it Gryffindor's chances of winning the House cup for the second year running. Harry, Ron and Hermione couldn't bear going to watch, so they stayed in the common room and listened on the radio to the commentary.

'And this is a surprise, with a huge change to the Gryffindor batting order, Percy Weasley has come out with Draco Malfoy, who has been promoted up the order from number five. What is Lee Jordan thinking?' The squeaky voice of Professor Flitwick asked.

'I have no idea, Flitters, old thing, it really is most unusual. Jordan must believe that Malfoy has the staying power needed to base the team's innings on. Perhaps he is looking for the draw. Then again, he may be experimenting for the future, given the hopeless state of the match for Gryffindor.'

'Yes, I see. Geoffrey Browning comes in to bowl form the Pavilion end at Percy Weasley, who deftly tickles the ball back past the bowler and takes a quick single. Malfoy is now on strike for the second ball of the innings. Browning comes in to bowl. THE STUMPS GO FLYING! The umpire, Professor Dumbledore hasn't raised the finger yet, instead sticking one arm to the side, it was a no ball. A lucky escape there for Malfoy. Could that be a sign that the balance of the game is changing? I doubt it, but one can never tell. Perhaps Hufflepuff will come to rue that chance.'

In the common room Hermione's fist came slowly out of her mouth. That had been close. Too close. Slowly Percy and Draco began to accumulate runs, settling down to begin with before opening the taps. By early afternoon, the runs were coming almost every ball.

'Once more Malfoy takes three paces down the wicket, before despatching that ball for six.' They heard over the radio. Perhaps they could go and watch? No. They might be unlucky- they'd gone yesterday and the match had gone terribly. The last thing any of them wanted to do was bring bad luck to the team.

By the time they broke for lunch, Gryffindor had taken a commanding position. They were not yet actually in the lead, but that didn't matter, they had 210 runs on the scoreboard, for the loss of not a single wicket. So far so good.

Within minutes of the resumption of play after lunch, both Percy and Draco had scored their centuries, although they were once more being more cautious, there was no sense letting yourself get out when you only needed to be a bit careful to play yourself back into the game, after all.

Suddenly, an amazing ball from Justin Finch-Fletchley swung in and knocked the bail off of Percy's wickets. He was out. Gryffindor's first wicket partnership had come to an end for 230 runs, a school record, Professor Vector announced via the radio. Draco was still in though, and the milestones kept coming. By the first drink's break he had made 150, and by the second he was on 198. Gryffindor had caught up with Hufflepuff sometime in between and were now beginning to build a commanding lead. Draco gratefully took a swig of the water bottle when it came out and wiped his forehead, which was drenched in sweat. This was going okay. If he carried on like this, he might save the match, even if Hufflepuff had claimed the scalps of Fred and Lee in two short overs. Parker was in at the other end, and all was going well, they had a nice partnership going and before long Draco became the first double centurion Hogwarts had had in thirty years. He wasn't going to stop there though. A clumsy ball from Parker saw him dismissed for 49, just short of his fifty, Draco would knew that would wrankle. He walked with Parker back towards the pavilion to meet with Andrews, in order to brief him on the conditions.

'Pitch is playing fairly true and the ball's doing practically nothing, keep calm and play sensibly and you'll score. Professor Dumbledore has looked slightly keen to give LB decisions, so try and keep the ball of your pads, Snape's fair as anything, believe it or not, so don't worry about him so much. Try and enjoy yourself and we'll see how it goes.'

'Thanks.' Andrews replied, taking guard at his end. Draco was no sooner back in his ground than the bowler was bowling again, and Andrews carefully dabbed at a good length ball, sending it into the covers. They didn't run, because it had gone straight to a fielder.

Andrews and Draco played out the remainder of the beautifully sunny day, bringing Gryffindor to a total of 512 for 4. They had a small lead.

Coming out the next morning, they batted for half an hour, until it became a bit cloudy. As Andrews brought up his fifty, Lee Jordan waved at them to return to the dressing room and declare. They had enough of a lead now to hope to bowl Hufflepuff out quickly and then slog the deficit to win the match. That would depend on good bowling though.

Today was notably different to the rest of the match in one vital aspect however. Today the cloud was making the ball swing and Gryffindor's bowlers capitalised this to bowl Hufflepuff out by tea for 178. Gryffindor needed 54 runs to win, but didn't have long in which to do it, not to mention the deterioration of conditions for batting making it fiendishly difficult. This time, Lee stuck to the normal order, Fred and Percy going in first, and gave them instructions to slog the runs for a quick victory; after all, time was rapidly beginning to run out. There were only ten overs left. They managed quite well, as the ball began to move more and more with every ball, until suddenly Fred was out. Gryffindor needed 43 runs off of eight overs. Easy. Sort of. Lee Jordan came in and was out immediately, trying to slog the ball over the long on boundary and missing. Parker stayed for a bit longer, before getting out to a nasty ball from Francis Martin, a Hufflepuff swing bowler. Gryffindor were 38 runs short of their target and needed to get them off 35 balls as Draco marched to the middle. He started well, firmly playing a wide ball to the boundary for four, 33 off 34 balls. The rest of the over was dry, and Percy was out to the first ball of the next. Gryffindor needed 33 runs of 29 balls, with only 5 wickets in hand. Andrews came in and sent his first ball sailing over the boundary for six. The next ball, buoyed by the success of his previous shot, he duly proceeded to edge the ball to the keeper, who took it. 27 off of 27 balls, four wickets left. Richards could bat a bit though. It would all be alright. Richards drove the ball four a single off his first ball, and Draco took the strike. Wielding his bat like a weapon of war, Draco sent the next two balls flying to the boundary for fours. 19 runs off 24 balls.

Trying to imitate Draco, Richards got himself out next ball. What was happening? Would Draco run out of partners before the score was reached? Who knew? Alicia came in with great determination, and managed not to get out before an ever more ferocious Hufflepuff attack. 19 runs needed off 18 balls. This was beginning to look doubtful. Would they make it? Draco pushed the next ball and they scored two runs. He did the same thing, but this time they only managed a single. Alicia did well, but fell to the last ball of the over. George Weasley came in and Draco had the strike, 16 runs off 12 balls. A quick four and a six saw the match begin to look winnable again, with only 6 runs needed of the final ten balls. Then the unthinkable happened, Draco was out playing a reverse sweep. Huge cheers went up from where the Hufflepuffs were sitting. With Gryffindor's tail end exposed to such an extent, surely they had won the match, and therefore the house cup. John Roach was in next, and Draco was pleased to see him still in when he had joined the team on the balcony outside of the changing room. He was less pleased when he saw the score, no more runs had been scored and the over was over. George was on strike and needed to get six runs. By some miracle he managed to score a four. 2 runs off of 5 balls. That was doable. The next ball, George took an almighty slog at the ball and connected. Both batsmen immediately started to run. They then returned for a second. George was yards out of his ground when the ball wiped out his stumps. He was run out. Towler was in next, the last man and they needed to get a single off of 4 balls to win. A wicket would hand victory to Hufflepuff. Towler stayed in for the next three balls, blocking everything that came his way. The final ball of the match, and either a run or a wicket would see the match won for either side. Draco couldn't bear watching, and watched from between his fingers. What would happen? Hufflepuff were not going to let this one go, and the bowler took a longer run up for one final, hopefully devastating delivery. Towler got his bat to it, and edged the ball away. Roach set off at a run, and Towler did the same. Then he must have heard the ball coming in, because four yards out he desperately dived to make his ground. He fell short. The bowler fumbled the incoming throw, and Towler crawled along the deck. What would happen first? Towler stuck his bat over the crease at nearly the same moment as the bowler whipped off the bails. HOWZATT! The Hufflepuffs appealed. What had happened? The whole ground fell silent as Dumbledore whipped out his wand to get a replay. He drew a large box, which was suddenly filled with an image of what had happened. Dumbledore moved it forwards, split second by split second. The tension in the stadium was unbearable. Dumbledore moved the image on again. A huge cheer erupted. This didn't come from the Hufflepuffs however, Gryffindor had won! Towler had gotten his bat down just in tme, for in the next segment, the bails had gone flying off. As Professor Dumbledore confirmed that Towler was not out, the crowd went wild. Gryffindor had won! They'd won the cricket, they'd won the house cup!

In the common room, thirty Gryffindors who had been nervously listening to the radio stopped biting at their nails and gave out shrieks of delight. They had won.

The rest of term passed in a fun-filled fog. In years to come, Draco would remember nothing more of that year until he had arrived at King's cross.

Sirius Black was there, talking vividly with his uncle. Already he seemed healthier. AS Harry left with Sirius and Draco with his uncle, Draco caught a few last words from his friend.

'You'll have to come round over the summer.' To which Draco had simply replied.

'I'll hold you to that!'


	25. Chapter 25

Draco was excited when an invitation to come and stay at Harry's for a couple of weeks was delivered by Hedwig. He immediately accepted and started to pack his bags. His uncle dropped him off at the address given on the invitation, Number 12, Grimmauld Place. He walked up to the forbidding door and knocked three times. The dull sound of the knocker booming out on the old wood was all that Draco heard. Surely it had been magically amplified. The door was answered by Harry, who nervously opened the door slightly and stuck his head through the gap. Seeing Draco standing there, he flung the door wide open.

'Come in! How're you doing?'

'Great, thanks mate.' Draco said, picking up his bags and heading inside. Draco looked around, noticing the ancient layers of grime that covered the house.

'Yeah, the house hasn't been lived in for a while, so we've spent most of the summer trying to clean it up.' Harry said, noticing the unspoken words his friend wished to say. At that moment Sirius came rushing down the stairs.

'Hello, young Draco, having a good summer break?'

'Not bad thanks, Mr Black.'

'Call me Sirius, we are cousins after all.'

'Alright Cos.' Draco responded, deliberately over-enthusiastic.

'Fancy a cup of tea?'Sirius wondered.

'Not half, I'm parched.' Harry replied.

'Well, come on then.' Said Sirius, leading the way to the kitchen. On the way there Draco bumped into a pair of curtains, which sprang open.

'Who invades the noble and ancient House of Black? Not more half blood scum?' Harry winced, hearing from behind him the portrait once more in contact with the world. Draco however, was more than up for the challenge.

'Most certainly not! I am Draco Lucius Malfoy, Son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Who are you to question me?' He snapped. The portrait instantly changed her tack.

'Narcissa's boy? So good to see you. Nice to have a proper wizard with proper, wizardly feeling back in the house. Do try and keep the blood traitors and half bloods in their place, won't you?.'

'Of course.' Draco drew the curtains to and turned around to see an astounded Sirius staring back at him.

'I don't believe I have seen anyone manage to do that in all my years.'

'What?'

'Shut the old bat up.'

'Who was she?'

'She's your great aunt, my darling mother, Walpurga.'

'So that's how she knew about me then.'

'Oh yes, she seems to have taken rather a shine to you, but I do hope that you'll keep your suppression of blood traitors and half bloods to a minimum while you're here.' Sirius said with a serious look on his face. He was calling Draco's bluff. Draco recognised this, and decided to play along.

'Pity, I was looking forwards to purifying the house and enslaving Harry.'

Suddenly Sirius and Draco burst into laughter, mainly at the shocked look on Harry's face. It was not for a good three or four seconds, that Harry twigged they had only been joking, and soon his face burst asunder into a large grin. They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting away as they helped Sirius to dispose of doxies, which involved spraying them with doxicide and running away when they threatened to bite. It was a fun game and only ended when three rooms had had their entire populations of doxies exterminated. All the running around tired them all out, particularly Sirius who was still in many ways recovering from his stint in Azkaban, so they headed to bed early. Early in the mornig Draco was awoken by a groaning. At first he was startled, but then he realised the noise was coming from Harry, who had a hand held up to his scar. Getting out of bed, he padded over to where Harry lay in bare feet.

'You alright?' He asked.

'Did I wake you?'

'Might have done. You feeling okay?'

'My scar hurts. And I had a dream.'

'You had a dream?' Draco asked, surprised that it should upset Harry so.

'Yeah. Voldemort was in it. He was sitting in a chair being fed by Wormtail. You know, Pettigrew. Then his snake came in and told him that there was a muggle outside, listening to the conversation about his plans. Then Voldemort killed him.'

'Voldemort's back?'

'No, he's still weak, Wormtail's nursing him, but he's still little stronger than a baby. Weaker possibly.'

They sat in silence for a while as Draco digested what he had just heard.

'Scar still hurting?'

'Yeah. Do you think Voldemort's nearby? The only times it's hurt before where when I was in the Chamber and when I fought Quirrell.'

'No. There's no way he could be round here. Besides, didn't Sirius say this place was protected with e_verything?_'

'Yeah. I suppose so. Don't worry about it.'

'Alright. But you'll tell Sirius about it in the morning, won't you?'

'Yeah. Night.'

'Night.'

The next morning Harry told Sirius about his dream and his scar hurting at breakfast. The sausage, eggs and beans were very welcome and Draco couldn't help wondering if the kitchen hadn't been the first place they had tidied.

'I thought we'd deal with the boggart in the second drawing room today, boys. You done Boggarts before?'

'Yeah, Professor Lupin did them with us last year.'

'Good old Remus. Well, do you feel up to it?'

'Yeah!' They boys replied in unison. When they finished breakfast Sirius disappeared for a while before returning.

'Boggart-time?' He asked from the door.

The two boys got up and raced him upstairs. Bursting through the doorway into the dusty and deserted second drawing room, the three stood there panting for a while, trying to get their breath back.

'Right it's in that sideboard over there. Wands out, everyone.'

They got their wands out, and Sirius wiggled his wand such that the cupboard sprang open. Harry was standing nearest the boggart, which changed itself into a dementor. The room went cold, but Harry shouted _"Riddikulus"_. Nothing appeared to happen, but as the creature stretched out is scabby hand it fell off. Harry let out a small squeak of humour. Next the Boggart rounded on Sirius and instantly changed itself into a small child, screaming its head off. Sirius waved his wand and the baby's mother picked it up. The boggart now turned its attention to Draco. It instantly morphed into an image of his father which resolutely ignored Draco. Draco cast the spell and hoped for the best. Suddenly the figure of Lucius started to do a chicken impression, clucking and strutting around the room like a bird. The whole room fell about laughing and the boggart vanished. They carried on laughing for what seemed like an age, but were all too soon interrupted by a knock on the door.

'I'll get it!' said Sirius, who left the two boys alone in the room.

'I wonder who that could be.' Harry said, 'I didn't know we were expecting anyone.'

'Let's go and look.'

They rushed outside and looked down the staircase just in time to see a flash of familiar purple robes round the corner into the kitchen.

'What's Dumbledore doing here?' Harry asked.

'Don't know. Do you think we should stay up here or head down?'

The two boys looked at each other and nodded. Harry leapt onto the banisters and started to slide whilst Draco set off at a run down the stairs.

When Draco reached the bottom, he gasped. There was Professor Dumbledore, standing right in front of him. A few seconds later, Harry popped off the end of the banister and landed neatly.

'Ah. Harry m'boy. Your Godfather wrote to me telling me that you had had a dream related to Voldemort. I just popped by to see if everything was alright.'

'Yes, thank you, Sir, I'm feeling a lot better now.'

'Good. Was this dream accompanied by anything else?'

'My scar hurt a bit.'

'I see.' Said rumbled Dumbledore. 'What happened in the dream?'

'Well, Voldemort was being fed by Wormtail and then Voldemort said something about the quidditch world cup and Bertha Jorkins. Whoever she is she's gone missing and I think Voldemort killed her from what he was saying. Then Nagini came in-that's Voldemort's snake, Sir, she's absolutely massive, and said something in Parseltongue.'

'Could you understand it?'

'Oh yes, she said that an old muggle was eavesdropping outside. Voldemort invited the man in and killed him.'

'I see. Did you hear what they had been planning?'

'Yes, Sir, they'd been planning to kill someone. Me.'

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. What could the great man be thinking? Eventually he spoke again.

'Well, Harry. Keep an eye on these dreams. If you have any more, let me know at once. Particularly if you scar hurts.'

'Is there anything we can do about it?' asked Sirius.

'Nothing, I'm afraid.' Dumbledore said before making his goodbyes and leaving. No-one spoke until the door shut to.

'Blimey, Harry, I'd forgotten about the cup! My uncle Noctifer's managed to get tickets. I've invited Ron and Hermione, do you want to come?'

'Yes!' said Harry as if Draco was a bit of an idiot for even needing to ask the question.

'Great! I'll write home tonight and tell him you're in, then.'

Draco stayed at Grimmauld place for the next two weeks, which were mainly spent clearing out the house. Professor Sprout dropped by to pick up the venomous tentacula, which years of neglect had allowed to grow from small houseplants useful for keeping flies out of the kitchen into vast plants, capable of devouring a small dog, but otherwise Draco saw no-one else he knew, even on the occasions that they went out in the evenings. He did however take particular delight when Sirius showed him the family tree that covered one of the rooms of the house. He could see himself, Sirius and thousands of his ancestors dating back to the time of the conquest. Hermione was right, there really were too many diagonal lines on this thing, weren't there. On the last day he was going to spend there, Draco packed his bags. Harry did the same and the next morning they were picked up early by Noctifer Malfoy, who had arrived in a large car. From there, they drove south, avoiding central London to where they had agreed to pick Hermione up.

'Hi Hermione!' Draco enthused as he bounced out of the car.

'Hi Draco. Hi Harry!'

'Hi Hermione? How are you? All packed?'

'Yeah I'm good to go. Noctifer loaded her bags into the back of the car and they started the long journey west to pick up Ron. It was three hours later that they arrived at The Burrow, where Ron was waiting inside. Mrs Weasley invited them all in for tea and refreshments, even if she was secretly suspicious about Noctifer. What good could a Malfoy be? She asked herself. Nonetheless, she wasn't one to be inhospitable and warmly offered around the tea pot and iced buns.

'Had a good journey down from London?' She asked.

'Yes, it was quite quick. Ministry said it was best to act as a muggle, so I thought I'd drive to the cup. It'll be less suspicious.' Noctifer explained. Molly Weasley was clearly impressed by how well he could fit in as a muggle as he sat there in a body-warmer and deep green wellington boots without even the slightest hint of mud on them, the very model of a gentleman farmer.

'So, you don't find driving scary then. Arthur used to have a car, but I'd never have a go myself.'

'See you later Ron. Look out for the others when they get there.' Mrs Weasley bade her youngest son farewell and before long they were on the road again, driving into the night. In the back of the car the boys dosed, whilst Hermione fell asleep in the front passenger sleep. Noctifer carried on driving until he reached the campsite he had booked. By now it was early morning.

'Wake up, sleepyheads!' Noctifer said rather loudly. He gave them all a bit of a shake and got out to talk to the owner of the campsite.

'You know, it's good to have someone normal about. I usually don't get that many visitors about at this time of year, but right now it seems like the annual trips from some asylum's come here without anyone mentioning it. There's one guy walking around in a dress! Anyway, you're at campsite 12b, just as you booked it. You head down the farm track, second paddock on your left. The space is all marked out. You should find it easily. The deposit was for forty pounds. Noctifer handed over two crisp notes, which the owner took gratefully, given all the things that other wizards had tried to pay him with that day.

'Come on, Kiddos! Off we go!'

They set off down the track, which seemed quiet, until they rounded the bend past some trees, where they suddenly came into contact with a mass of humanity including the Weasley twins.

'Hi guys! We've just got our tents set up, fancy coming round for a cup of tea?'

Noctifer said that he'd handle erecting the tents while they ran off to have a cup of tea, but to be sure to be back in an hour or so for breakfast. The tents the Weasley's were staying in were impressive, there was no doubt about that, with kitchens, bedrooms and even plumbing and Harry was duly awestruck. Draco was merely quietly impressed, since he had seen Noctifer's tent before.

That tent was even more impressive than Draco had previously remembered. The stout oak doors were still dividing up the bedrooms, but had that chandelier been there previously? And the kitchen had definitely not had so many shining copper pans before and. Was that a jelly mould? Hermione was seriously surprised at all of this and did her best to suppress a small laugh. To her mind the oak doors that wouldn't have looked out of place in Dracula's castle most certainly did in the thin canvas walls of the tent. Nonetheless, she had to admit to herself it was nice camping in a proper bed and when it started to rain in the early evening, she also was pleasantly surprised at how quiet it was. They were unsure about what to do for dinner when all of a sudden the fire in the chimney that formed the heart of the tent sputtered into life. Out stepped Noctifer, carrying four white plastic bags each with a blue picture of a cod on the outside.

'Fish and chips, anyone?' he asked. Ravenously hungry, they each took their greasy delight and tucked in. That fish was good, deliciously creamy flakes and a lovely hot batter. The chips were just right as well, if a little in need of salt, nice and fluffy on the inside and crispy on the outside. As Draco wiped a blob of grease from the side of his mouth he gave a sigh of contentment. There really was nothing like fish and chips was there? Curling up under the thick duvet, Draco shut his eyes and waited for the excitement the next day would bring.


	26. Chapter 26

They were up in the top box with the Weasleys and Ludo Bagman, who was commentating on the match as it turned out. These were really good seats, even if you did have to put up with Ludo shouting. In Draco's mind the commentary rather missed the friendliness of the cricket commentary or the quick flirtatious asides of Lee Jordan's quidditch commentary. Of one thing Draco was sure though, even if Hogwarts had better commentary, this was definitely better quidditch. Even Hermione, who usually cared nothing for the graceful swoons and dives across the sky was entranced by the beauty of the game. The quick paced Irish attack, the supreme power of the Bulgarian beaters, all of this was quidditch at its brilliant best. To the surprise of everyone, except perhaps Fred and George, Ireland won the match purely on the strength of their chasers, since when Krum caught the snitch for Bulgaria they had already built a sufficient lead to win the game for Ireland. Whilst the fun of the day was over, the excitement certainly wasn't. Noctifer had disappeared again and there was a huge amount of noise coming from outside. They wondered what was going on, when suddenly Arthur Weasley poked his head through the flap at the front of the tent.

'Come on, get your shoes on. We've got to go.'

'Why?'

'Don't ask questions, get a move on. I'll explain when we've gone.'

It soon became apparent what was going on. A riot.

'It's the death eaters', Arthur Weasley explained. 'Every so often they like to gather to remind us that a lot of them are still out there. This is the perfect opportunity for them to embarrass the ministry. You head into that forest and hide. I'm going to help the aurors out.'

They hurried into the forest and hid deep inside. The noise of the troublemakers seemed to have died down, when suddenly a voice which sounded like its owner gargled daily with gravel spoke.

'_Morsmordre_.'

A ghastly jet of green light filled the sky and faded, then a loud crack filled the air

'What was that?'

'Everybody down!' Draco yelled as he flattened himself to the floor. Red bolts of magic flew over their heads and they tried to make themselves as flat as possible.

'They're just kids, Crouch, it can't be them.' Said a mysterious voice.

'It could be. Look at that one, a born Death Eater if ever there was one.' Said this Crouch person, pointing a finger squarely at Draco. He was hauled roughly to his feet.

'Well, was it you boy?'

'Was what me?'

'That.' The man said pointing to the sky. Draco followed the finger and saw a terrible sight. He recognised it from his father's tales. The Dark Mark of Voldemort.

'Who's died?' Draco asked. He knew the Death Eaters only set that in the sky when they killed.

'So it was you. Arrest him!'

'Crouch, he's just a kid, he's not old enough to know...'

'Evil doesn't wait for its target to come of age before it settles in their heart, Tonks! Arrest him!'

From nowhere came Arthur Weasley, who had small cuts over his face where twigs had hit him as he had run through the forest.

'You're alive!' he exclaimed when he saw Ron and the gang. 'I saw the Mark and I assumed the worst.' There was still panic in his voice however, and his bewildered eyes showed that the fact they were alive hadn't quite sunk in yet.

'Dad! Nice to see you. We're fine. Don't worry, we're fine. Well, Draco isn't, but that's just because he's being arrested, we're fine, absolutely nothing to worry about.'

Arthur Weasley slowly calmed down and looked over to Crouch. Then he exploded.

'WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? BARTY! WHY ARE YOU ARESTING UNDERAGE KIDS?!' The Wrath of Arthur Weasley could not be contained and Barty Crouch soon decided that arresting Draco wasn't such a great idea after all, even after his wand was found to have cast the spell. It was decided that the whole thing must have been a crime committed by person or persons unknown who had cast the spell with a stolen wand and immediately fled the scene. They headed back to the campsite. Many tents had been burnt down in the disaster, but some were still standing, including the tent Mr Weasley had borrowed off Perkins and Uncle Noctifer's. The latter tent being larger, Mr Weasley insisted that they all sat down in there and waited for Noctifer to return. Even with the tent's palatial luxury, it was a bit of a squeeze but everyone fitted in. When Draco mentioned the Floo, Mr Weasley asked if it would be alright for him to use it to let Mrs Weasley know they were alright. Draco said it was fine and Mr Weasley soon left them by themselves so he could talk to his wife in something resembling privacy. This was however somewhat limited, when Mrs Weasley was screeching at the other end. Occasionally one or all of the Weasleys winced, as they heard what their mother was saying. In the end, to get her to calm down, Mr Weasley had to get her to come through and see that everyone was alright.

After giving everyone a hug that felt to Draco's as strong as a bear Mrs Weasley started to cook. In many ways it was her gut instinct. If things were bad you could make it all go away by cleaning or baking. Since the kitchen in this tent was so very well equipped, it was baking she chose.

The biscuits were just out of the oven when Noctifer returned, tucking something into a bag.

'Oh, hello everyone. I didn't know you were here, Molly.' Mrs Weasley gave a quick wave from the kitchen and returned her attention to the biscuits.

'Everyone alright? I saw the Mark and hoped you were all okay.'

'You were alright?'

'Yes, just fine. I was well, I was busy.' Subconsciously Draco felt this wasn't quite a good enough explanation but he let it pass. After all, Noctifer wouldn't have been involved in anything.

It wasn't long before Draco found himself sitting with his friends in the Hogwarts express. What was going to happen this year? Throughout the world cup, Percy Weasley, who had recently gotten himself a job at the ministry of magic, was hinting that something would be happening at Hogwarts, but irritatingly had refused to spill the beans. They sat in the carriage, Ginny, Ron, Draco Harry and Hermione, waiting patiently for the train to set off. The station clock struck eleven. Immediately a vast puff of steam billowed from underneath the coaches and ascended to the roof of the station. The strokes of the mighty engine could be heard they were slow at first but soon became faster and faster, louder and louder until the train was really travelling at speed. As the train set off, it had become legal for them to practise magic once more, and Draco whipped his wand out and waved it about. He coughed twice to clear his throat and began to have a go at one of the incantations he had read in Dumbledore's textbook on charms over the summer. It was an undetectable extension spell. Soon the inside of the compartment had all of the capacity of a large ballroom. Another wave of his wand and the floor in the middle became sprung. That was a neat trick his uncle had taught him. All they needed now was some music. Draco reached into his bag and pulled out a small gramophone. One tap of the wand was all it took to start it playing music.

'Would anyone care for a dance?' He asked. Ginny was the only one to accept and soon the pair were dancing around the ballroom slowly, to an elegant waltz Draco had heard on the radio once. That song ended and Ron and Hermione started to dance, and Draco sat down so that Harry could dance with Ginny. Another waltz and Draco was dancing with Hermione. This time it was some sort of Scottish reel, to which not even Draco could get the footwork right. Before long, Harry tripped up over one of his two left feet and fell to the floor. The dancing stopped immediately in a hail of laughter. Harry was fine, even if his pride was a little wounded. They didn't resume however because the twins had walked in.

'Wow, seriously cool wandwork, guys.' They said impressed. 'Nice one, Hermione.'

'It wasn't me.' Hermione admitted, a trifle embarrassed.

'Well whoever did this did a bloody cool job.' Fred said. Draco smiled slightly to himself, which went largely unnoticed.

'One small thing though,' Fred continued, 'you are missing a little certain something. I'll leave it to George.'

George whipped out a small box of fireworks and set one off. It exploded in the room filling ti with smoke and sparks.

'You know what George, we really need to think more about smoke, don't you agree?'

'Oh, yes .Sorry guys.' George said off-handedly, fleeing the scene of the accident. In the end, the only way they could clear the smoke was to turn the room back to how it had been when they got on the train and open the window. This was no mean feat, as Draco couldn't remember the counter charm and had to look it up in the book which was itself quite challenging in the smoke. By the time Draco had done this and the smoke had cleared they were at Hogsmeade station. The carriage ride up to the school was comparatively pleasant. This year, for once, it wasn't raining as they arrived, perhaps the weather reflecting their spirits. Whilst it remained dry, the weather soon wasn't reflecting their spirits when Dumbledore announced that this year, both quidditch and cricket would be cancelled, as something called the triwizard tournament was going to be held at Hogwarts. So upset were they at this turn of events that Draco and Harry barely listened as Dumbledore introduced Professor Moody as the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher. The feast, although excellent as usual somehow didn't taste as good, with the bitter taste of disappointment at the cancelling of sport fresh in their minds. It wasn't even as if they could enter, only those who were older than seventeen. As far as Draco was concerned, they may as well not bother doing this, as it was all just a vast waste of time anyway. There was no way that it would help foster international magical co-operation. Draco knew full well that the only thing that could do _that_ was an extremely powerful dark lord. After all, the last time there was international magical co-operation, was probably Dumbledore being sent to deal with Grindelwald. Ever the cynic, Draco slept with black hatred in his heart that night. Hatred of anything that could cancel quidditch or his beloved cricket.


	27. Chapter 27

Lessons were, as usual an odd combination of dull and interesting. History of Magic Draco found uniquely interesting, or as Harry would put it, uniquely Draco found History of Magic interesting. Transfiguration was much the same as it always had been and charms was picking up after the relative simplicity of last year. In no class, however, did anyone pay more attention than in Defence against the Dark Arts. It was the one class everyone had been talking about, and so it was with excitement that Draco sat down in the class. Moody was a legend in his own lifetime, the grizzled auror who had taken out more dark wizards than anyone alive today was treated in one half of society with awe, the other with fear. In both parts however, he was disliked. His initial appearance, that of a man who had not so much been born but sculpted haphazardly out of rock with dynamite won him no favours but those he won he struggled to keep thanks to his abrupt manner and peculiar habits.

One of these habits they noticed the moment they entered the class. They had just taken their seats when Moody roared CONTSANT VIGILIENCE! at the top of his voice. Half of the class jumped out of their seats, the other half, including Draco, whipped their wands out and looked wildly about for the attack. There was none, but from there on in, the lesson only got stranger. So strange in fact, that Draco wrote to his uncle about it.

_Dear Uncle Noctifer,_

_ I hope everything is well at home, it is here. I don't know if you've heard, but they've cancelled cricket and quidditch this year for something called the Triwizard Tournament. I'm not allowed to enter, so really I fail to see what I'm going to get from it. The new Defence teacher is Mad-eye Moody. I know he's supposed to be mental, but even so his lesson was a bit strange. In our first lesson with him today he started by giving us a lecture on wand safety (that's not the strange bit) and then asked us about unforgiveable curses. After he got the names of them from the class, he demonstrated the cruciatus and the killing curse on a spider which he had swollen to an enormous size. He seemed to get a bit of a thrill out of torturing it. Then he practised the imperius curse on us and told us to shake it off. I did manage after about five minutes, but the next person to mention desktop tap-dancing to me is going to be cursed and cursed well. Even with Moody being completely crackers, isn't this a bit extreme? What do you think?_

_Draco._

The reply came immediately via the common room fireplace.

'Hi Draco! Got your letter.'

'Noctifer! What are you doing here? How can you call here? This is so embarrassing.'

'Never mind that. What you say about Moody _is_ odd. There's nothing definite, but I want you to keep track of all the odd things he's been doing. When you fill this notebook, go to Dumbledore about it.'

Noctifer's hand emerged through the fire and handed a small wire bound notebook to Draco. The hand receded into the flickering green flames and disappeared. The fire went back to normal and Noctifer was clearly going to say no more.

The list grew and grew and by a week before Halloween about half of the notebook was full of Moody's oddities. Walking down in the herd of students to greet the expected arrivals, the list grew. Why was it, Draco wrote, that Moody always drinks from his hip flask on the hour exactly? Who drank once an hour? Draco thought no more on it after he had written it down, and instead concentrated on jostling for a good position from which to see the arrival of the guests.

The Durmstrang students arrived first. A first year with unusually good eyesight had been the first to notice something was happening at the lake, and instantly all heads turned towards it. There was something happening in the middle, large concentric rings were spreading out from a central point. Whatever it was seemed to have interested the giant squid whose tentacles could be seen wafting in the direction of the disturbance. The disturbance grew and it soon became apparent that a ship of some sort was rising from the depths. That was truly impressive, from the beautiful red and gold paint highlighting the carved stern which depicted images of duelling wizards to the brazen figurehead at the front. Water poured off the ship and its crew emerged. A barge was lowered from one side and boarded by all on board. The barge was soon pulling up on the shore and out hoped the students of Durmstrang, led by a formidable man in a fur hat. The man with the sallow face walked to Dumbledore and greeted him.

'And Good morning to you too, Igor, feel free to head inside, unless you would prefer to wait for the ladies, of course.'

As it turned out they decided to head inside on the grounds of the chill.

The Durmstrang students may have been inside out of the biting wind but still the Hogwarts students were waiting for the French delegation. Eventually, they arrived.

'Finally. How much longer were they going to keep us waiting?' Draco asked in a whispered aside to Ron.

'Don't know. They're arrivals a bit disappointing after Durmstrang though, late and in a flying carriage not very spectacular, is it?'

'Not really.' Draco was forced to agree. After the French ladies had stopped pulling disgusted faces at the presence of mud on the ground, they headed inside.

'Well, thank goodness for that.' Hermione said to Draco, 'I think I've got frostbite.'

'It was a bit cold, wasn't it?'

'Yes it was. And think yourself lucky that you've got trousers.'

'A bit fresh about the knees, was it?'

'Yes, and not just the knees either.' Hermione said mischievously.

'At least the great hall will be warm, with so many people in it.'

'True. I just hope there's going to be enough food.'

'You hope there's going to be enough food? I thought that was my job.'

'What? Can't I be hungry too?'

'Well, I suppose so.' Draco said, taking his seat at the Gryffindor table.

At the end of another excellent feast, Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement.

'Once more I should like to extend our welcome to our guests. We all know however that you are not here simply for a social call. You are here for the Triwizard Tournament! Each school will put forward one champion who will be selected by an impartial judge.'

A whisper of excitement ran around the hall. Who would this impartial judge be? Dumbledore coughed twice and continued.

'The impartial judge will now be brought in.' Dumbledore paused as Argus Filch now entered the hall from behind the staff table, struggling as he carried an awkwardly large stand. Behind him came Mad-eye Moody, carrying a small box. The box was placed on top of the stand and Dumbledore walked down to it. He drew a line around the stand with his wand and then proceeded to tap the box three times with the tip of his wand. The bejewelled box folded into itself, revealing its contents, a roughly hewn wooden cup. Gasps filled the hall as the goblet caught fire.

'The goblet of fire is to be your judge. A student need only place his name inside the goblet on a piece of paper to enter. However!' Dumbledore continued strongly, 'There is a new regulation this year. The tournament is a dangerous and oftentimes deadly challenge. As such it has been decided that only those who are seventeen shall be allowed to enter. Those who are not will find this age line impossible to cross. The champions will be decided at our Halloween feast.' He waved at the faint line that he had earlier traced.

Fred and George were extremely disgruntled at this, as indeed were most members of the Gryffindor common room. Hermione wasn't too displeased, but she soon joined the growing ranks of the upset in the Gryffindor common room, but for completely different reasons.

'I can't believe Moody lost our homework! I spent ages writing that. Four foot of essay for nothing!'

To lose a couple of essays was rare but not unheard of. To lose the entire class's work however... That incident was soon added to the notebook.

Before anyone knew it, it was Halloween and they were all once more in the great hall of Hogwarts awaiting the announcement of the champions. Even Fred and George were there, freshly out of the hospital wing after their disastrous attempt to get past Dumbledore's age line. Dumbledore waved an arm and all of the candles in the room were extinguished, the only light in the room came from the goblet of fire and the glow of four guttering candles which had all but gone out.

Dracos eyes had only just adjusted to the gloom when the flame of the goblet glowed bright and a bit of paper came out. Dumbledore deftly seized the paper from the air as it floated down.

'The champion for Beauxbatons will be Fleur Delacour.'

Another blast of light and Viktor Krum was announced as the Durmstrang champion. Then, no sooner had Krum disappeared from the room then the goblet grew bright for what they thought ot be the final time.

'The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory.'

Diggory left the room and the murmur that usually filled the hall during feasts began to return. All of a sudden it died away. The goblet had disgorged another piece of paper. It was Dumbledore who picked it up. His face visibly whitened.

'Harry Potter.' Dumbledore mumbled, then collecting himself he began again.

'The champion for. Oh, never mind. Is Harry Potter.'

Harry sat there shocked and wouldn't move until Ron stood him up. Harry left the hall to join the other champions and the hall burst into noisy, angry gossip.

'How did he do it? You think he would have told us.' Said Ron in a sentiment that was echoed in only slightly different words across the hall.

'Come on, do you think he knew himself?' Draco asked.

'I mean, did you see the look on his face- he was just as shocked as we were. I'm telling you, there's no way that Harry put his own name in, or I'll eat my hat.'

'Ok. I'll take you up on that one. Dumbledore's decision on the matter is final and if I lose I'll eat my own hat as well. Deal?'

'It's a bet.' Draco stuck out his hand and shook Ron's. It would be a long time indeed until the result of that bet would be known.

Lessons continued as per usual, even if they did have a champion in their class. No hints were dropped as to what the first task would be and it was therefore with great concern that Harry prepared for everything that the first task could throw at him. It was not very long before the first task when Harry returned to the common room and announced to Draco, Ron and Hermione that he knew what the task was.

'Dragons!'

'Dragons. Do you have any idea how I can tackle one. Hagrid said something about getting past one of them.'

'Charlie told me once that the weakest spot of a dragon is its eyes.'

'Yeah, but you won't do anything to a dragon by blinding other than make it unable to see you. It'll just go berserk, won't it?'

'True, but that might not be an issue if you could avoid it.'

'And how am I meant to do that. I'm only allowed to take my wand in with me. Nothing else.'

'A collar of execution might do the trick. It's supposed to be a fearfully difficult charm but it might work.' Draco suggested.

'And what does it do?' Harry asked.

'Well, it summons a collar about the dragon's neck and then chops its head off.'

'That's barbaric!' Hermione exclaimed.

'Yes, but so are dragons. They aren't exactly going to ignore you just because you ignore them. At least, that's what Great-Uncle Aphalard wrote in his book. He was an amateur dragon-tamer, father showed me his diary when I was younger. For some reason I remembered about that.'

'You know, Draco, I sometimes wonder about you.' Hermione commented.

'Well, that's great Hermione, but it's not helping Harry now, is it?'

'No. How about a body bind curse?'

'Won't work on Dragons, their skin's too thick.' Ron replied, smug that he knew something Hermione didn't.

'How about petrificaction?'

'Well, Hermione, do you happen to have a basilisk or a medusa with you? Didn't think so, besides I can only take my wand in with me.'

'I know, the dragon'll have to be kept in one place right. That means magic or chains or stuff, right?' Ron asked.

'Yes, I think so, but I don't see how that helps.'

'Well, why don't you fly around it on your broom?'

Harry looked at Ron as if he was an idiot.

'I can only take in my wand.'

'Yeah, just use it to summon the broomstick. There's a spell my mum's always using. Accio or something like that. Just cast that and your broom'll come straight to you. Then you can do what you have to do.'

'I still reckon that a good conflagration would do the job.' Draco muttered sulkily. The others resolutely ignored him.

The day of the first task dawned and Draco was worried for his friend. Dragon's were evil creatures and this could be the last time they'd meet. He was sure that he would never again speak to Harry, or at least while expecting to hear something back, when he took a seat. The task was to take a golden egg from a clutch of eggs protected by a broody female dragon. That was impossible.

Cedric Diggory was the first of the champions to prove Draco wrong, narrowly escaping a fiery death at the hands of a Swedish short-snout when the dragon stopped chasing the rock he had transfigured into a small dog. The fact the dog wasn't flameproof hadn't helped.

Fleur Delacour came next and charmed her dragon to sleep, an impressive feet of magic, even if the snoring dragon did set fire to her skirt.

Krum simply adopted the direct approach. Blind the dragon and go straight for the eggs. Just like Draco had predicted when Ron had suggested this in the common room, the Chinese fireball had gone crazy and, whilst Krum was unhurt, he was docked a lot of points when the dragon smashed up most of the clutch of ordinary eggs.

That left only Harry, who had drawn the meanest dragon of the lot. The Hungarian Horntail. Harry had barely stepped out of the entrance to the arena where the task was being held whena burst of flame came straight at him. Draco winced as his friend hit the ground hard, diving for shelter behind a rock. Then Harry pulled it off. He cast a spell and before long an unmanned broomstick was flying over the heads of the audience. Harry caught it and mounted in one smooth movement. He took to the air and was soon long out of reach of the Horntail.

'What's he doing?' asked Hermione.

'He's hovering out of range. Probably planning his next move.' Draco said. The next moment, Harry brought the broom into a steep dive and flew straight at the dragon. He swooped over the eggs to pick up his as the dragon shot a fireball where he had been mere moments before. Having picked up the egg in triumph and successfully beaten his retreat, Harry was now safe. Not only that, but he got excellent marks as well.

The party in Gryffindor tower lasted well into the small hours, and it was only when Professor McGonagall arrived to shut them up and send them to bed for the fourth time that the celebrations began to wrap up. This was not the only time Professor McGonagall had to be the bearer of bad news either, at least in Draco's opinion, when she announced an unexpected challenge. They all had to get partners for the Yule ball, which apparently was a tradition of the Tournament. Draco knew who he wanted to ask, but how could he do it? He sat and schemed for many weeks before he had what he felt to be the perfect plan.


	28. Chapter 28

How could the plan have failed? He'd had it all lined up. He asked her when she was alone, waiting for the perfect point to come up in conversation and Bam! It failed. She was going with someone else. There were by now only three days until the ball, but still. Never mind. Draco sat through breakfast chewing the same bit of toast over and over again when the paper arrived. Temporarily removed from his own little world of self-pity, he opened the paper and started to read, sticking a sausage in his mouth. That wasn't a very nice article about Harry, was it? Didn't even seem like him a tall. Who was it by? Ahh, Rita Skeeter, ignorable pap then. Page three had an in depth discussion of the upcoming state opening of the Wizengamot which carried on for the next few pages, reviews of legislation that was thought to be going to be introduced, thoughts on the effects it would have, comments on the procedure. All banal stuff. Draco stuck a slice of sausage in his mouth and turned the page. The puzzle section, he would come back to that later, celebrity gossip, dating pages. Draco skipped passed these and stopped at the obituaries. He scanned through the list of names, no-one he knew. Good. Then Draco turned the page. There was another obituary, a full page one, with a picture of the recently deceased filling the central quarter of the page. Draco looked at the paper in a mix of shock and sadness. Staring back at him was his own mother.

_The Prophet is sad to report the death of Narcissa Malfoy in childbed last Tuesday night neither she nor the unborn girl survived. She will be remembered as much for her luxurious parties as for her contributions to various charitable organisations..._

Draco stopped reading. His chest felt like someone had ripped some of his insides out. Dead? No, surely it was all some cruel joke. But Draco knew it couldn't have been. He reread the article. This time some of it sank in. She'd died in childbed? She'd been pregnant? He'd lost a sister he'd never known and a mother all in one night.

Harry and Ron walked in to the great hall and headed over to Draco, as per usual, who folded up the paper and did his best to hide his sadness from his friends. He succeeded in doing this, after all, he was long practised at hiding his true feelings behind an impassive mask. Sadness filled every inch of Draco's body and nothing could cheer him. The night of the Yule Ball came, and when Draco came to it, he couldn't go. They didn't want a morose lump like him at a happy event like that. Coming back from the library just in time to have missed everyone leaving for the ball, Draco headed upstairs to his bed and laid face down upon it. Try as he might, he couldn't stop the long stoppered-up tears from flowing. Seconds were like hours as the sadness flowed in bitter streams from Draco's body. Slowly the tears stopped coming and Draco, exhausted by his sorrows, fell fast asleep.

The evening spent in the company of just himself may have done Draco some good, but he was still not inwardly much more cheerful. His exterior was as bright and cheerful as it ever was and no-one had noticed how he really felt. This was good news in Draco's books, for feeling sad was a sign of weakness and if there was one thing Draco could not stand in himself it was imperfection. Just because one could not possibly obtain perfection was no reason not to aim for it and Draco was going to be strong. The best way to do that was to throw himself into something whole-heartedly. Hermione's SPEW. No, he didn't really believe in that, the elves didn't want freeing, and until they did it was an unkindness to do so. A more worthwhile use of his time would be preparing Harry for the second task. With this new resolve, Draco headed down for breakfast. It already tasted better than it had for the last few days, and when Hermione joined him, he even forced himself to give her a small smile.

'Hi Draco.'

'Morning Hermione.'

'I didn't see you at the Ball last night.'

'You wouldn't have done.' Draco replied coolly.

'It wasn't because I said no, was it?'

'No, It wasn't Hermione. You don't read the obituaries in the Prophet, do you?'

'No.'

'Thought not.'

'Why do you ask?'

'Oh, no particular reason, just trying to fill in a few details on my general picture of you. How was last night?'

'Ok, I suppose. Viktor was wonderful, but Ron was such a child about it.' Draco smirked.

'Well, I suppose those of us who aren't only children do tend to grow up more slowly.'

'Perhaps. Do you have any brothers or sisters, Draco; I don't think I've ever asked.'

'No. I'm an only child too. But enough of me, what happened last night?'

Hermione explained about all of the beautiful decorations, the bowls of punch, the entertainment, the dancing. It all sounded as if it might have been nice, just like one of his mother's parties. An echo of sadness flashed across his face at that thought, but Hermione didn't seem to have noticed- she was still going on about the ice sculptures when Draco started to listen again.

'Sounds great.' Draco said when she had finished. 'See you in the library later?'

'Alright.'

Draco got up to leave and after a quick stop-off in the dorm to pick up his things, he hurried to the library. Once there he sat down and began to work. He had already finished all of his homework for the week so he had begun to research the egg. Everyone had heard the terrible screeching sound it had made when the egg had been opened, but what could it be? Perhaps it was a simple clue, scrambled up a bit, played too fast, perhaps. Maybe there was some other code working on it. That was where to look then, translation spells. When Draco reached the section on translation spells he pulled out the biggest book he could find, and returning to his cosy corner, started to read. The book yielded a few useful hints, and by the time it had started to get dark Draco was nearly half way through. It was fully dark by the time Hermione arrived in the library at six O'clock.

'There you are, Draco. I just want to say I'm so, so sorry.'

'What about?'

'The death of your mother. Your comment about obituaries at breakfast hooked my curiosity. And I've been looking over recent papers since.'

'There's no need to be sorry. It wasn't you who killed her after all.'

'It didn't say anyone killed her in the paper.'

'Well, it wouldn't would it, but _he_ killed her nonetheless. With me gone he just had to have an heir and she died trying to do it.'

'Oh, Draco.' Hermione said sympathetically, giving him a big hug. Draco shrugged her off vigorously.

'You don't think I need sympathy, do you? Because I don't. I don't want anything from anyone.' Draco went back to his book before adding one final comment.

'Oh, you haven't told anyone about it, have you, Hermione?'

'Not yet.'

'Keep it that way.'

Hermione walked out, trying to remember that her friend was upset and probably didn't mean to be as aggressive as he was being.

Draco turned back to the book and carried on reading. What was this? A language identification charm. It was, frankly, horrible. Two inverse wrist rolls and a Parsley flick. That was going to be nasty. Not to mention that the charm itself wasn't in any normal language. The book said it was in Babylonian. There was no way Draco was going to do that. Pity, because it seemed like it might have been the best way of doing things otherwise.

The best way of doing things came from a different angle altogether- Harry managed to solve the mystery when Cedric Diggory, paying him back for a heads up about the dragon, advised him to listen to it underwater. Then all of a sudden, the challenge was no longer to work out what the egg was saying, but how to allow Harry to breathe underwater for an hour.

'Well, you could transfigure yourself into a fish or something.'

'Yeah, but then how am I supposed to get back to being me again? Besides, isn't it really hard to become an animagus?'

'Your Dad managed it, so did Sirius, you could always ask him.'

'Yeah, but I'd still like to have something else up my sleeves.'

'Don't blame you. Holding your breath isn't exactly an option, is it?'

'Not really.' Harry said with a wry smile on his face.

'Well, I suppose we'll just have to do some more work on it.'

'Yeah. I'll start by talking to Hermione and bringing her up to speed.'

'Righty-ho. I'll hit the library. See you later.'

In the library Draco started looking up what was needed to breathe underwater. It turned out not to be an area of magic that was particularly well studied, or at least not well publicised. By the time that Professor McGonagall turned up to ask for a word with Ron and Hermione, and to send Harry to bed, they must have gotten through at least half of the library. Draco was sent packing too, but returned under the cover of Harry's invisibility cloak to carry on reading. Perhaps the next book would contain the answer. It didn't, nor did the next, but Draco kept on reading, well into the small hours of the morning. Finally, he had the answer. That would do it. All he needed to do now was to tell Harry. But it couldn't hurt for him to have a quick nap, could it?

Draco awoke with a start, wondering why he was so stiff. Ah, yes. He'd been in the library all night doing the research which he _still needed to give to Harry._ That could be problematic. Draco rushed downstairs to the Great Hall. Breakfast was over. Damn. Well, everyone must be watching the task then. Draco began to run towards the lake, picking up speed as he hurtled down the grassy slope to where several vast bathing stands had been constructed by way of stands for the spectators. The champions would be on the bottom. Draco's lungs were by now beginning to burn and the bloody taste of adrenaline was filling his mouth. Draco arrived and looked frantically about. There was Harry! He ran over to him and whispered the solution in his ear. Harry nodded and looked over at the clock.

'Five minutes to go. Glad you turned up when you did. Fancy getting grabbing a seat in the stand? Sirius is up in this one somewhere.'

'Will do. Good luck.'

'Thanks.'

And with that Draco left to go and find his cousin.

'Wotcha Sirius.' Draco said when he found him.

'Draco.' Sirius replied curtly. The clock chimed eleven and the task began. Harry jumped in with the rest of the champions and began his descent. For forty minutes they could see nothing. Sirius just sat there fidgeting, he was clearly nervous. The clock struck twelve and none of the champions had yet returned. How would they fare in the crushing depths? With a noisy splash the surface of the water broke and a mop of black hair stuck up through it. Harry was back! And Ron! No wonder he hadn't seen him, Ron must have been Harry's thing of value. It would explain why he hadn't been watching. Perhaps Hermione was down there to, but why? Of course, Krum! She must be Krum's hostage. Time wore on and slowly all of the champions returned. All of those who had been in the lake were wrapped in hot towels before being led out to watch the awarding of the points, which were issued in the order of arrival back at the platform. Harry got full marks, Krum came second, Diggory third and Delacour fourth. Draco yawned. Perhaps he hadn't got as much sleep last night as he thought he had. Well, there was only one thing to do, say well done to Harry and then head off to bed. He headed down the platform back to the ground. Where had Harry gotten to? There he was, walking _into the Forbidden forest with Krum?_ Something wasn't right there. Draco followed them in with his wand at the ready. It turned out they were just having a conversation. Draco relaxed nothing to worry about here. What was that? A rustling in the undergrowth gave way to the figure of Barty Crouch Senior. Draco's eyes narrowed. The last time they'd met Crouch had tried to arrest him. This time he seemed less concerned about this and more concerned about getting to Harry. Draco pulled his wand out again and advanced into the clearing.

'My fault, all my fault. Must talk to Dumbledore.' Crouch was saying to Harry.

Draco waved a hand at Harry who raised his own in reply.

'Come on, Viktor; let's get him up to the castle. We should be able to manage.' Draco said.

'Alright.'

Before long they were back up at the castle. They took Crouch straight to Professor McGonagall, whose transfiguration classroom was the closest.

'Sorry to bother you, Professor,' Harry began, 'but we've got a big problem.'

'What is it Potter?' asked McGonagall, irritated to be disturbed.

'It's Mr Crouch, Professor. We found him in the forest rambling on. He wanted to speak to Dumbledore. He said something's really gone wrong.'

'Ok, Potter. You know where the Headmaster's office is, take Mr Crouch there and I'll let you in, in a moment.'

They set off with McGonagall in tow.

'Bartemius, are you alright?' She asked.

'Dumbledore. Must talk to Dumbledore. It's my fault. I shouldn't have done it. Dumbledore needs to know.'

McGonagall wasn't sure what to say and took Crouch up to Dumbledore. Draco, Harry and Krum followed her up.

'Vow! I have never seen a room like this.' Krum said, upon stepping into the room for the first time.

'Barty!' Dumbledore exclaimed when he stepped out from the back of the office. 'Ho-w the devil are you?'

'Albus. I've made a terrible mistake. My son is here.'

'Here? Didn't he die?'

'No. My wife was ill and on the verge of death. It pains me to say so but when she asked me to free her son and put her in his place, I agreed. I kept him at home under the Imperius curse. At the world cup, he broke free. I met up with him in a disguise later on and he placed me under the same curse, perhaps in revenge for years of keeping him prisoner in his own home. I was kept prisoner myself but I've broken free and I've come to find you. He's disguised as Alastor Moody, Albus.'

A stunned silence fell across the room. Moody, an imposter? Surely not. Dumbledore seemed uncertain about what to believe, but Draco had whipped out his notebook and was rifling through it. Of course. It was so clear now.

'Well, Barty, I believe that you will need to see Madame Pomfrey, you've clearly been working too hard.'

'No. I'm fine. Moody's not Moody. He's my son. He's a death eater.'

'Really, Barty.'

'No, Sir,' interrupted Draco, 'I've been keeping this notebook since the beginning of the year. It's nearly full of the odd stuff Professor Moody has been doing.' He handed the pad of paper over and Dumbledore spent some time studying it.

'Very well. I think we had best pay. Hm hm. "Alastor" a visit. Can you spare any more of your time Minerva?' '

'Of course.'

'Ve're coming too.' Krum said, keen to pursue this affair to its end.

'Very well, I suppose the more people the better when dealing with a man like Crouch Junior.' Dumbledore said. 'But you'd better stay here, Barty.'

They left the room and were back down in the corridor when Dumbeldore wondered how they would find the fake Moody. Unwilling to give up his secret, but aware that it was their only hope of finding a Death Eater, Harry handed over the Marauder's Map.

'What's this bit of parchment going to do?'

'I solemnly swear I am up t no good.' Harry said. A maze of fine ink lines spread over the parchment.

'Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs present the Marauder's Map.' Read McGonagall. 'Just when we'd thought we'd seen the last of those four, they pop up again.'

Harry opened the map out and began to hunt for the name of Barty Crouch. One they found immediately, standing in the office right behind them. The other seemed to be in Moody's office, along with Alastor Moody himself.

'Well, you could knock me down with a feather.' Said Dumbledore. 'If that isn't some of the neatest magic I've seen in years. Well, he appears to be there, so let's get going.'

Dumbledore advanced at the head of the group, wand drawn and ready. The others had by now done the same. Heads turned in the corridors as the armed posse stalked through the winding passages of Hogwarts, ever approaching their target.

The door was locked, so Dumbledore pointed his wand at it and muttered something under his breath. Instantly the centuries old door crumbled into a pile of ash. There hadn't even been a fire. Inside the fake Moody was sitting in his chair and the sudden noise of his door being destroyed had made him go for his wand. He hadn't reached it by the time that Dumbledore had immobilised him with one smooth swoop of his wand.

'Well now we need to wait and see if it's Alastor or not.'

'I suppose so, Albus. Should I ask Severus to bring some veritaserum?'

'Why ever not? Yes, I think that should be a very good idea.'

McGonagall left and soon returned with Severus Snape following on behind her.

'So, what appears to be the matter, Professor Dumbledore?' Snape asked, noticing the presence of Harry, Krum and Draco.

'A small matter of an imposter filling the role of our defence teacher, Severus.' Dumbledore replied.

'Hence the veritaserum?'

'Hence the veritaseum.'

Snape issued the dose to the imposter and stepped back.

'So, Who are you?' Dumbledore began the interrogation.

'Bartemius Crouch.' Dumbledore nodded at the response.

'And what are you doing here?'

'I am here to serve my master.'

'Voldemort?'

'Yes.'

'What was your plan?'

'To bring my Lord back to his full strength.'

'How did you mean to do this?'

'By means of the Triwizard tournament.'

'How, precisely?'

'I was going to kidnap him during the third task and take him to the Dark Lord.'

'I see. Where is the real Alastor Moody?'

'In this room.'

The interrogation had clearly taken longer than they thought, for as the school bells chimed the hour, Crouch reached for his hip flask but Snape was there beforehe had a chance to grab it. Opening the flask, Snape wafted a hand over the stopper and gently sniffed the heady vapours that were coming out of the receptacle.

'Polyjuice potion. I have no doubt about it. It may also serve to explain all of the ingredients that have been disappearing from my private stores this year. Turns out it wasn't Potter and his friends after all.' Said Snape, sounding very disappointed.

Slowly the figure of Alastor Moody began to change, the once heavily scarred skin began to become smooth and his nose lengthened. The fake leg fell off , only to be replaced by a real one and the infamous made-eye flew off to be caught in an excellent diving catch by Draco.

'I trust that you and Minerva will be able to take care of our guest while the rest of us search for Alastor, Severus? I am sure Mr Filch will be more than glad to lend you his shackles and the rest, he does make a point of keeping them continually serviceable.'

'Of course, Headmaster.'

'Well boys, I am sure you agree that we need to find our Defence Professor so I would be grateful if you would lend a hand to find him.'

'Vell, the only place ve have not looked is the trunk.' Krum said, after a quick search yielded no sign of Moody

'Yes, quite so, Viktor.' Dumbledore agreed.

Examining the trunk soon revealed it had a false bottom, which covered a cavernous pit, at the bottom of which was the figure of a man.

'Alastor, is that you? Are you alright?'

'I'm stuck at the bottom of my own suitcase, Albus, what do you think?' A voice replied from the bottom. The man at the bottom was soon gotten out and soon the original Mad-eye was explaining how he had gotten into such a sticky situation. Despite wanting a week or two in the hospital wing, Moody was keen to finish what he had agreed to begin and take on the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.


	29. Chapter 29

Much to his delight, Draco heard that Dumbledore himself was going to be covering the Defence lessons for the next few weeks. Finally they would be able to see the legendary teacher in action. The class lined up anxiously outside the defence Against Dark Arts classroom. The bell chimed the beginning of the period and they walked in. At the front of the class stood Dumbledore, who invited them to sit down. The Gryffindors were all eager to sit near the front for once and eagerly jostled each other aside for seats. Draco and Hermione managed to sit down together on the front bench, with Harry and Ron just behind them. An eager hush settled over the room and Dumbledore began.

'The key thing in defending yourself against dark magic is to know when you can fight it and when you cannot. If you fight only when you can win, and hide else, then you will never be beaten by dark magic.'

'Yes, Jones? You have a question?'

'Sir, what if you can't beat the dark wizard _or_ run away from them?'

'Good question. If you can do neither then you should avoid doing evil to others by any means.'

'But surely that would mean you're telling us to let ourselves be killed. I mean, if Crouch had succeeded in bringing back He who must not be named then surely we would have a problem if he came to call.'

'You would indeed. That is why you must be able to hide yourself from the off.'

'But then wouldn't everyone hide all the time and nothing would get done?'

'That is why you must know when to fight, so that you needn't fear everyone.'

'But..' Dumbledore raised a hand to stop the question.

'I think it's time for a demonstration. Everyone up!' They stood up, confused as to what they were doing.

'Right, now, everyone look for someone they think they can beat.' Everyone partnered up with someone else, until only Draco was left unpartnered.

'Everyone found a partner?'

'No.' Draco's solitary voice replied.

'Well, you can partner me then, Draco. Now, the younger shall challenge the elder to a duel, and then each pair shall fight, one at a time.'

The lesson ended when they were half way through the class. That left, among others, Draco left to fight Dumbledore. The next lesson would only be the next day, giving Draco only one night to work out how to beat Dumbledore. By nine O'clock, he was already despairing.

'How am supposed to beat _Dumbledore_? He's the greatest wizard alive!'

'You're not too bad yourself, Draco, there's a reason that you ended up partnered with him, you are the best at curses, hexes and jinxes in the class.' Hermione tried to comfort him.

'Yeah, but I reckon Harry would have a better chance, he's always been better at defending himself than me.'

'Yeah, but I'm not daft, I'm safely partnered with Ron, aren't I?'

'True. There's simply no way I can win the duel, he's much better at it than I am. After all, he has actually defeated a proper dark wizard.'

'Well, how about you change the duel; get him duelling on your terms.'

'That's not going to make any odds, he's loads better at magic than I am.'

'When did I say anything about magic?'

'Don't be daft, Hermione, it really doesn't suit you, it's a wizards duel, how is it supposed to be fought if not with magic?'

'Have it your own way.'

Draco slept poorly that night, tossing and turning , thinking of nothing but how to beat Dumbledore. Of course. That was how to do it. It mightn't work, but it should level the playing field a bit. Satisfied that he had a strategy that might work, Draco eventually fell asleep. The next morning he awoke full of nerves. These nerves built over the day until by lunch Draco could no longer even think of eating. The lesson soon came. The other partners all duelled, Harry beat Ron and Hermione thrashed Nott, which was particularly gratifying. Then it was Draco's turn to challenge Dumbledore.

'Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, I challenge you to a duel with swords.'

Dumbledore's face broke into a broad grin.

'Good, you've learnt something at least. Foil or sabre?'

'Sabre if you please. Shall we fight until the first hit?'

'Agreed.'

Dumbledore used his wand to transfigure two quills into swords.

'It would appear that these swords at least, are as mighty as the pen.' Said Dumbledore, handing one over to Draco. They faced each other and saluted their opponent with their blade. There was no competition; for all of Dumbledore's' superior height, Draco's youthful agility enabled him to avoid Dumbledore's blows and land one of his own. The duel was over, by some miracle, Draco had won.

'Very well done, Draco. What we can take from that is that not only must we know when to fight, we must know _how_. Always fight on your own terms if you have to fight. Well done, Draco. Anyway, I think that just about wraps up that lesson, so I'll see you next time, it may serve to give yourself a quick refresher on shield charms.'

They got up and left, talking to each other about how the lesson had gone.

'That was awesome the way you beat Nott. Shame Dumbledore had to put him to rights so quickly.'

'Yeah, well, we can't get everything we want. I'm glad I beat him though.'

'Yeah, and you beat Dumbledore.'

'Thanks to Hermione's advice. I don't know how I could have done it without you.'

'You still did it, Draco.' Hermione said, modestly. Draco said nothing to this-what could he say?

Dumbledore covered the Defence lessons until the end of term, when the school emptied. Even Harry and Draco headed home. The four friends promised to spend much of the holidays visiting each other, which they did manage.

Draco was spending the first week of the holiday with Hermione, which happened to coincide with her Father's Birthday. To celebrate the Grangers and Draco went to the theatre. HMS Pinafore. Well, it might be good, Draco allowed. They took their seats and not ten minutes after the theatre darkened. Draco knew how this worked, the curtain went up and the play would begin.

The curtain didn't go up. An orchestra had started to play and for ten minutes Draco sat there in the dark, listening, to be honest this was not what he had expected, and he was in a minor state of shock. Then the opera proper began. Draco found himself humming his favourite number through the interval but eagerly settled down for the second act. That song that Draco had hummed through the interval was soon replaced by a new favourite. Never mind the why and wherefore, indeed perhaps this muggle theatre did have some relevance to the wizarding world, after all, it did rather show up the whole pure blood thing, didn't it?

When they left the theatre, Draco earnestly thanked the Grangers for a great evening and they headed back to Hermione's. As it was getting late, the whole house went straight to sleep, except for Draco who lay in bed playing the evening's performance over and over again in his head. Yes, the muggles who had written that definitely knew a thing or two about music.

In the rest of the holiday Draco met up with Ron at Harry's where they helped Harry prepare for the third task before heading home for a quiet week before heading back to school. Despite disappointment that there would be no cricket year refreshed in his mind, Draco was looking forward to the third task- Harry was in the lead and might even win! Nonetheless, several weeks of preparation would be necessary lest Harry go the way of the Dodo-the third and final task was sure to be the most dangerous. It was common knowledge that the third task would be in a maze and regrettably the use of broomsticks had been disallowed. There was no one spell that would do, Harry just had to learn and learn, and his friends were going to help him. The weeks passed and lessons continued as usual. Although exams were beginning to loom, Draco, Ron and Hermione hadn't even started their usual revision activities, so busy were they helping their friend. Due to all of this work, by the time the third task rolled round Harry was feeling oddly complaisant. He knew enough to do well, or at least to survive. Finally, a mere two days before the task, a final briefing told them all they would know about the task, they would have to work their way through to the centre of the maze and find the Triwizard Cup. The first person to touch the cup would win. The real Moody took the cup to the middle as the champions were having a hearty breakfast in the Great Hall. There was something of a relaxed, celebratory atmosphere. The sinister events of the year had been averted with the capture of Barty Crouch Junior, the Minister for Magic had come to watch the final event, accompanied by Barty Crouch Senior, who was now back to full health and in full command of his department. Draco gave his final good wishes to Harry and headed off to grab some seats in the stands. Having gotten a good seat, Draco stretched out in the warmth of the sun and relaxed. Hermione and Ron joined him slightly later after they'd given their best wishes to Harry and popped back to the common room for some cushions. Apparently they'd thought the seats might get a little uncomfortable. They were nothing of the sort, and as the warm glow of the sun filled the world Draco began to fell sleepy. The champions were let into the maze one at a time, with Harry going first. Despite a few sticky obstacles, Harry made steady progress towards the middle. Cedric was also making good progress, whereas Fleur and Krum seemed to be struggling a bit more, having set off considerably later. Harry and Cedric were approaching the Cup together, they were going to take it at the same time. They lifted the cup and disappeared.

What was going on? An angry murmur filled the stands. Time passed. Fifteen minutes later and they were still nowhere to be found. Then suddenly they reappeared, right in the centre of the maze, which had been vanished in the hunt for the two boys. Dumbledore, Moody and McGonagall ran over to the two boys. Harry was bloodied and looked liked he'd been through the wars. Cedric looked worse. Amos Diggory ran over to him and let out a howl of anguish.

'He's dead! My boy is dead!'

A stern Albus Dumbledore turned his attention to Harry.

'What happened?'

'He's back, Voldemort's back.' I don't know how but the cup was a portkey. Took me to some graveyard. Wormtail was there.'

'And what happened next?' Dumbledore asked, persuading Harry to open up. Draco, Ron and Hermione had by now arrived and were listening avidly.

'Voldemort said _kill the spare_ and Wormtail killed Cedric just like that. Then he sort of imprisoned me on the tomb of Voldemort's father. Then he put this sort of baby-voldemort into a cauldron, chopped off his own hand and took some blood from me. Then Voldemort came back. He summoned all of his old supporters to him and then.' Harry stopped, the memory beginning to overwhelm him, Dumbledore spoke and had soon coaxed some more from Harry.

'Well, when we were fighting and then the spells sort of mixed. I forced some little bead of light into Voldemort's wand then all of these dead people started coming out of the wand. Cedric first, then some muggles. My parents.' Once more Harry faltered but Dumbledore had apparently heard enough to guess the rest.

'So, you let the connection go, grabbed Cedric and then got back to the portkey?'

Harry nodded.

'I see.'

A pinstripe clad figure had finished sauntering his way over to them.

'Ahh, Cornelius. We have a terrible problem.'

'Yes, I can see that Albus, a boy's died in this perfectly safe Tournament of yours.'

'No, it's worse than that Cornelius. The Dark Lord has returned.'

'What?' Fudge spluttered. 'No! You're making it up! Trying to destabilise me!' Fudge stormed off. Draco suddenly decided to go after him.

'Minister! Minister!' Fudge didn't turn around, but slowed to a fast walk, which let Draco catch up.

'What is it?'

'Well, don't you think you ought to listen to Dumbledore?'

'Most certainly not! He's a power hungry busy body who would like nothing better than to be minister.'

'But it isn't Dumbledore who says Voldemort's back- it's Harry.'

'Harry Potter! You expect me to believe him, given all the stuff they've written about him in the Prophet?'

'Yes.I assure you Harry wouldn't lie about this. Besides, what's the owrse that can happen? You put everyone on alert and if nothing happens you blame it on Dumbledore and Potter, you were merely acting in the public interest based on information gathered by certain sources, you must know the drill.'

Fudge did and seemed to be impressed by Draco's political savvy.

'You're certainly your father's son, aren't you, Draco.' The minister half chuckled 'Very well, I will take your advice. But if you're making this up...'

'I'm not.'

'If you're making this up I'm going to ensure that you never get a job with the ministry ever. Understood?'

'Yes, Minister.'


	30. Chapter 30

Instead of a celebration of the victory of one of the champions, the end of term feast instead became a memorial service for Cedric Diggory and an opportunity for Dumbledore to spread the word about Voldemort's return. All of this turned what was supposed to be a joyous occasion into one of utmost gloom. The gloom stayed through the departure of the other schools, righ onto the Hogwarts' express itself. Here however, all thoughts were turned excitedly towards the summer.

'What do you think you'll be doing? Anyone going anywhere nice?'

'No, not this year. You?'

'No, nothing much. Just staying at home.'

'Me too.'

'Well, perhaps I'll see you round?'

'Yeah, perhaps.'

'That'd be nice.'

At the station Draco was collected by Noctifer, who apparated them both home.

'How're you doing, Draco, alright, I trust.'

'I'm alright, thanks. Anything interesting gone no while I've been at school?'

'Nothing you don't know about.' Noctifer said darkly. 'Well, there is one thing. I've just got a new contract in. It's huge, absolutely huge, so I probably won't be around much this summer, I'm afraid, at least, not during the day.'

'Oh?'

'Sorry kiddo, I can't tell you any more.'

'Ohh.' Said Draco, slightly crestfallen.

'Don't worry. I'll tell you all about it when I'm allowed. And before I forget, I'm laying down a few new rules, what with the return of the Dark Lord. I don't want you heading out without me. The garden's fine, but no further than that without me. You should be safe that way.'

'Ok' Draco groaned.

'There's no need to take that tone, it's for your own good, you know.'

'S'pose so.' Said Draco, sulkily. This was not the start to the holidays that he'd been hoping for.

'Well, dinner's in the oven, just needs to be left alone, but I've got to go. I'll see you later.' And with that, Noctifer disapparated. That was to be the first day of a very quiet holiday, no invitations were forthcoming from Harry, Ron or Hermione and all of his were ignored. What had gotten into them?

An isolated summer grew more so when Draco's Hogwarts' letter arrived, hand-delivered by Noctifer.

'Well, looks like we'll need to get your stuff for next year. Oh, and congratulations on your badge.'

'Yeah.' Said Draco, downcast, seemingly not having heard the last utterances of Noctifer.

'What's up?'

'Oh nothing'

'Really?'

'Yeah, just missing my friend that's all. They haven't even replied to a single letter I've sent them.'

'Ah.' Noctifer almost blushed. 'That might have been an oversight on my part. When I cast all the anti-Voldemort charms on the house I may have not let your post get through.'

'What happened to it?'

'Well, I set up something that burns all post that isn't from my list of approved senders.'

'Why?'

'Well, last time one of _his_ favourite strategies was to send people cursed letters, just a touch could make all sorts of things happen. I seem to have, ha ha, forgotten to add your friends to the list.'

Draco didn't seem to find this funny and guessed that his friends wouldn't either, so set about sending them all letters explaining what had happened. Despite Noctifer having subtly altered the spell to allow letters from Ron, Harry and Hermione through, Draco still received no reply from his friends. Whatever could be happening?

Draco found the answer out on the First of September.

'Hi guys, mind if I join you?'

'Mind, why would we mind?'

'Well, there was that mix up with the letters, then you didn't reply to the one I sent explaining about all of that.'

'We weren't allowed.'

'What do you mean you weren't allowed?'

'Dumbledore told us we couldn't contact you-we weren't even allowed to talk to Harry until he arrived.'

'Arrived where?'

Ron looked about cautiously before continuing in hushed tones.

'The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.'

'Nope, still no idea.'

'Well, the Order's a secret organisation, it was founded by Dumbledore to fight against You-know-who the last time. Can't tell you where, but it's a brand new building, wonderful place, even if it is still a building site. We've spent most of the summer making it more homely. I'm surprised you haven't heard about it, really, after all, it's your uncle who's building the bloody place.'

'So that's what he's been doing.'

'Didn't he tell you?'

'No, well, sort of. He said he'd had a big contract and refused to talk about it. I'd thought he might have been on the other side and trying to keep it secret, after all, he's been oddly absent over the years, including at the Cup when the Death Eaters attacked those muggles.'

'Well, Dumbledore seems to trust him. That should be enough.'

'Dumbledore trusts Snape.'

'Touché.'

The train rumbled on into the dusk as the four friends caught up. Aurors patrolled the corridors, making sure that the country's densest source of wizarding hostages were not intercepted. Whether because of this or because he was biding his time or if he hadn't really returned, no-one was really sure, but Voldemort made no attempt on the train. At the station they disembarked to the now familiar sound of Hagrid, yelling at the first years. With everyone else seeming to be pushing their way to the front in an ugly crowd, they waited. And waited. Eventually the final carriage was waiting for them and a strange blonde girl that Draco had seen about school but never really paid much attention to. Perhaps for good reason.

'Everybody, this is looney, hm,hm, sorry, Luna Lovegood, she's a Ravenclaw in the year below us.' Hermione explained.

'Nice to meet you.'

Nice to meet you too.'

'Draco Malfoy.' Draco extended his hand. When Luna took it, he bent forward and pecked a kiss on the back of her hand.

'Enchanted, I'm sure.'

'The pleasure is all mine.' She replied as the coach set off. The last person to say hello to Luna was Harry, who did so very distractedly.

'Harry Potter.' He was looking out towards the front of the coach, which as per usual, wasn't attached to anything.

'Can you guys see that?'

'See what? The coach is pulling itself, just like normal.'

'No its not, there's a great big skeletal Horsey thing there.'

'Don't be daft, there's clearly nothing there.'

'He's not being daft.' The airy voice of Luna replied, 'i can see them too.'

This didn't seem like a great recommendation to Draco, who tried to hide a scoff. Either Luna didn't notice or she was too polite to mention it, for she continued regardless.

'It's called a Thestral. They can only be seen by people who have seen death.'

'Thanks, Luna, that's really comforting.' Said Harry drily. Was that a hint of sarcasm? Draco couldn't tell.

They arrived at the castle fractionally before the doors were shut for the new students' welcoming ceremony. Saying goodbye to Luna, they took their seats at the Gryffindor table and waited. The sorting happened, new first years, just what was wanted. A constant source of irritation for the new prefects. Dumbledore got up to give his usual start of term notices and had just introduced the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher when he was interrupted by a coughing. The new teacher was going to make a speech. Oh dear.

'Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. What a pleasure it is to once more be back in this Hall, this Hogwarts hall which has seen many faces of witches and wizards pass through it, ever finding more ground to cover in the eternal quest for knowledge. In this hall many young women and men have looked up at the headmasters and headmistresses and wondered what their future will hold.

They have worked hard to secure their futures, now long history, just as you are working hard to secure yours, yet what of those whose future is smaller than their past who reside within these very walls, what are they doing to aid you in this quest? Certainly they must be your guides and yet what if they do not know the way? Those who blindly follow age old paths simply because they are age-old do not connect with the dreams of the founders of our greatest school, to expand the horizons of magical knowledge and potential.

Potential exists within all of you, and it is up to you to fulfil it. Nothing can come from nothing, yet from hard work all good things become plentiful. Plenty is the food that you have eaten, plenty are the days you have ahead of you. But our time of plenty must be maintained. Maintained at the cost of keen and penetrating thought. For many of you iit is not thought that has brought you here tonight, but tradition. Tradition dating back many generations, years of wizards being sent to this school. Now, tradition is a valuable thing, for once it is broken it can take centuries to restore, yet that is not sufficient reason to keep it intact, for when tradition stands in the way of progress, one must yield. When the past meets the future, one must yield. When fiction meets fact, one must yield. When it comes to truth, loyalty and respect, none can be yielded, for that way lies chaos and utter ruin.

It cannot be denied we live in uncertain times, yet surely certainty must be sought. It cannot be denied that we live in dangerous time, yet safety must be sought. We are told He-who-must-not-be-named has returned, we must seek the truth. For in truth lies safe knowledge of certainty, which you must all seek in your time here.' Professor Umbridge sat back down and Dumbledore continued.

'What was that all about?' asked Ron.

'Well, it was all about how we must break with tradition and seek truth loyally.'

'Yeah, but what does it all mean?'

'It means,' Hermione began darkly, 'that the Ministry doesn't believe you-know-who's back. It means. It means the ministry's interfering at Hogwarts.'

Dumbledore finished his notices and sent them all to bed. Harry and Ron took an early lead, as Hermione and Draco had to shepherd the first years up to the dorms. It was an uneventful journey, save for having to save one first year from the invisible step, there was nothing to worry about –not even Peeves showed up.

The first years were soon sent to bed and the older students began to relax in the common room. Games of cards were beginning to spring up around every table and raucous conversations were happening on every sofa. On one sofa sat Lavender Brown. Draco smiled to himself at the thought of her. Well, she tried at least, even if there was little else Draco could say about her. Ron seemed to be able to say more, at least, Draco hoped so given how often his glance went that way. As the conversations in the common room died away and students drifted off to bed, Draco found himself deep in conversation with Hermione. The last ashes of the fire were glowing but dimly in the grate as Harry and Ron finished off their game of gobstones and headed to bed. Still Draco and Hermione talked.

'I wasn't particularly impressed with the new Defence textbook, were you?'

'Not really, far too much theory in it.'

'Yes and half of its wrong.'

'Yes, it did seem to contradict some of the other things I'd read, I sort of assumed I just hadn't understood it.'

'Nah, you probably had. Tell you what, though, that speech from the new teacher, what's-her-name..'

'Umbridge?'

'Yeah, that's the one, Umbridge...does rather put a different perspective on things, don't you think?'

'Come again?'

'Well, you said yourself that the Ministry doesn't believe Harry and wants to interfere at Hogwarts.'

'Yes...' Hermione said, uncertainly.

'Sol, if they don't believe Harry, they don't think the Dark Lord has returned, if they don't think that, then why is Dumbledore putting so much into Defence?'

'Well, if he reckons that You-know-who is back, wouldn't that explain why?'

'Not if you think Dumbledore's lying.'

'Go on.'

'Well, if you think Dumbledore's lying, then why do you have Defence lessons -they don't at Beauxbatons, they just incorporate it into other lessons. If you ask me, I reckon the Ministry thinks Dumbledore's lying. I reckon the minister is feeling threatened by Dumbledore –reckons that Dumbledore is trying to take over.'

'I'm not with you.'

'Well, if you want to take over you need an army. An army needs soldiers, who have to be trained.'

'I'm with you. So you reckon the ministry is trying to stop us being taught to defend ourselves so Dumbledore can't build an army to take over the Ministry.'

'Yup.'

'You're cracked.'

'So how do you explain it then?'

'Well, perhaps Professor Umbridge believes that a good theoretical basis is what you need. Maybe she's going to do the practical side off her own back.'

'Maybe. But I'm still sticking with my idea. After all, I do know the minister slightly better than you do.'

'Yeah, but how well do you know him?'

'Well enough to know he sees threats to his power everywhere.'

'That's politicians for you.'

'You old cynic. Well, we seem to be the last people down here. Time for bed?'

Hermione yawned so much that for a moment Draco thought her head must come off before agreeing. They eagerly anticipated the next morning, full of new lessons, as well as the delightful new task of helping first years find their way.

At breakfast the next morning, as per usual, Professor McGonagall handed out timetables to her house as soon as most of them had arrived for breakfast. A quick look over the thing told Draco that he had Defence against Dark Arts first thing, followed by Potions and Transfiguration all before lunch. What a terrible day.

It started off earlier than expected when a horde of first years from all houses needed help finding their way to various lessons. By the time Hermione and Draco had sent them all on their way, they were running late. They rushed through the corridors and secret passages, but they had only gotten half way when then bell went to mark the start of lessons. Its sonorous tones reverberated throughout the castle and the halls fell suddenly silent, save for the sound of the footfalls of Draco and Hermione. Thirty seconds later, they arrived. The door seemed noisier than ever it had before as they arrived at the classroom of Professor Umbridge.

'I'm glad you could join us. Speak to me afterwards.' Professor Umbridge said sharply. They took their seats at the back of the class, disappointed, because usually everyone wanted to be at the front in Defence classes. Umbridge started the lesson from the beginning-had she restarted for their benefit? Looking around Draco decided that she hadn't.

'This is your OWL year. You all know that OWL stands for Ordinary Wizarding Level, of course, and by now you should be able to at least pass it. Your education in this field however has over the last few years been rather, varied. Only one teacher you've had would've passed a Ministry inspection, and that was in your first year.

'Oh yeah, Quirell was brilliant, if you overlook the fact that he had Voldemort sticking out the back of his head!' Harry suddenly burst out. Umbridge was certainly nonplussed by all of this, yet carried on, choosing to ignore the comment.

'At any rate, your knowledge is far behind where it should be, so we are going to have to abandon the usual course and instead opt for a purely theoretical course.'

'What? No Magic!' Seamus spat.

'No magic, Mr Finnegan. It is felt that a thorough theoretical grounding is all you need to pass your exams, and that, after all, is why you are here.'

'Absolutely, after all, there's no need for us actually to defend ourselves, is there?' Harry sarcastically said.

'Mr Potter, that is the second time you have spoken out of turn, I don't want to have to remind you again.'

The lesson went on and everyone learnt nothing. Then, to the relief of all, it ended. Draco and Hermione remained behind to talk to Professor Umbridge.

'Well, you arrived late. Why?'

'We were helping the first years find their way to their lessons, Professor.'

'So why were you late?'

'It takes time, Professor.'

'No excuse. You should be on time to your lessons. I want to see you this evening for detention. Well, off you go.'

They left moments before the bell went, making them late for Snape. The day seemed to be going from bad to worse.

'You two are late. Why?' Snape demanded the moment they entered the dungeon.

''Sorry, sir, Professor Umbridge kept us behind after the last lesson.'

'Did she now, very well, take your places. Today we will be making a powder of antipathy. It is a particularly powerful powder used in the treatment of addictions and various other medical conditions. It is notably not strictly a potion but a powder, but since it is formed by the dehydration of a potion, it is indeed our concern and no that of the alchemists. A very simple potion to make, so long as you can follow instructions and one that is quite safe. It is a nice easy potion to ease you back into things- we don't want too many exploded cauldrons today, do we Longbottom? The potion is brewed by the dissolution of three wolf hairs, which shall be provided, in oil of castor, over a gentle heat. To this, add a pinch of lacefly wings and four level size two spoons of grated dandelion root. The addition of a sprig of yew wood completes the active base, which is then made up with five parts water to one part active base. This should take you the whole lesson. The potion will then be left on a low heat for a week until the solvation of the mixture has decreased by a facto of two thirds, at which point, this should be in the next lesson, it is to be heated rapidly to remove the remaining liquid content and produce the powder. Whilst the recipe for the production of this powder is naturally unique, the methods learnt today will provide you with the knowledge of how to make any general powder. Are there any questions? No, then you may start.'


	31. Chapter 31

A complaint to McGonagall had managed to wrangle them out of detention with Umbridge, which gave Draco time to head out that evening for some pre-season quidditch practise. His broom, a Gadwall was still a thing of beauty, but even the excellence of the broom couldn't make up for its rider being of considerably poorer quality than his opponent- Harry was far out of Draco's league.

Draco kept trying, but every time Harry beat him to the snitch humiliatingly quickly. There was no chance he was going to make it in quidditch.

It was that night that Draco decided to give up quidditch - he could do no more than already he had, and what he had to give was not good enough. It did not signify- Draco had other things, academics, cricket, even though he was not heir to such a vast fortune as once he was, he was in line for a handsome sum to come his way, in the fullness of time. Draco really had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all, not even Umbridge who was easily overruled by McGonagall. Everything was fine as he prepared for his OWLs. Thankfully they were still a long way off-they needed to be with the huge gaps in everyone's knowledge. The gaps were particularly large when it came to Defence Against the Dark Arts as Umbridge claimed, they had only had one decent teacher in the past four years, and this year's one wasn't looking like she was going to be much better either. These thoughts came to the fore at breakfast the next morning. Draco had gotten up surprisingly early to get down for a really good breakfast, just the thing to cheer him up after the shock realisation that he was never going to be any good at quidditch. He started with two slices of thick toast, coated liberally with orange marmalade. As Draco bit into the crunchy strands that survived of the original orange, he couldn't help but feel a small thrill of excitement travel up his spine. The toast and marmalade soon gave way to the centrepiece of breakfast. Scrambled eggs, sausages, bacon, black pudding, fried mushrooms, brown sauce, baked beans and a few more slices of toast to round it off. It was brilliant, from the indescribably wondrous taste of the black pudding, to the greasiness of the sausages and the acidity of the brown sauce cutting sharply through it. The pleasant cacophony of tastes mingled in Draco's mouth, there to remain throughout the day. Breakfast was drawing to a close when the morning paper arrived. A few knuts to the delivery owl and it was his to read. What was happening in the world? **_Crouch Appointed Head of Magical Law Enforcement_** the headline read. That was apparently in reaction to the Voldemort threat, the article explained, reasoning that only a major crisis, such as the emergence or even the return of a Dark Lord could induce the return of such a man, whose views were known to be harsh. Any man who would willingly send his own son to Azkaban was not the man for a peacetime ministry however the incorruptible titan was the perfect man for wartime, known for being unwilling to give anything to those who would threaten the peace and security of the realm.

Further in was an announcement that Draco felt was more significant. **_Hogwarts High Inquisitor Appointed_**. This was going to be interesting, what was that all about. Draco read on.

_It was announced yesterday that due to the unsatisfactory standards at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that a Ministry approved figure would be appointed as High Inquisitor in an effort to halt falling results and reintroduce the high standards that our greatest school is known for. Speaking on the record, one ministry official observed that "question marks must hang over Albus Dumbledore's head if it cannot be shown that Voldemort has truly returned, question marks that can only be further entrenched by the facts of falling standards at Hogwarts." It is yet to be announced who the High Inquisitor will be, but betting firm Proctor, Spokes and Gambol have refused to take further bets on the issue, following a series of mass bets on current Hogwarts teacher Delores Umbridge, who has taken up the Defence Against Dark Arts post this year. _

Draco looked up from the paper, shocked. He skipped through the rest of it, skimming through every section, even the sport and obituaries, dazed by the revelation. Her? As High Inquisitor? What would she do? Where would her powers end? Where, to that matter, would they begin? There was no way of telling, not to mention that her brief would almost certainly be changed as it went along, His father had told him about that, it was one of the many tricks that the government used, not to mention the civil service, of which his own father was head, in his role as permanent secretary to the minister for magic. Draco felt a small rush of anger fill him as he thought of his father, a father who had abandoned him to the world when he was sorted into Gryffindor, a father who had sought another heir, fully aware that it would kill his wife, and a father who had refused to invite his son to the funeral of his mother.

That last thought made the anger worse, Draco was sad that he had been unable to say goodbye to his mother and sub-consciously his soul ached for the catharsis that a funeral represents. Not even the final mouthful of breakfast could do anything to relieve the pain, the pain of a mother lost and an unknown sister never–to-be-gained. Not that there had been any hope of that. Nothing would ever fill the hole in Draco's heart that had been left behind. It was without cheer that he went about the rest of the day and everywhere he saw things that made him think of his mother. Every time he did, he would give out a little inaudible sigh and carry on, forcing back the sadness that had for months now been threatening to overwhelm him. Try as he might, he couldn't get over the sadness, not without saying goodbye. The only time Draco wasn't feeling low was when he was working, then he was distracted by the work enough that he didn't feel sad, but by no means was he happy, save for occasional flashes where his friends, unbeknownst to them, managed to cheer him up. Even these joyous heights only served to make the dark so very much deeper, a deep dark that slowly consumed Draco even as he laboured to keep it hidden from those about him.

By the time of the first Hogsmeade weekend there was little that Draco wanted to do. Where was the fun in Hogsmeade now? What joys could it present him? The sweets of Honeydukes were nice, but really sweets were a childish delight that no longer had any pleasure for Draco, well, not that much. The pubs he couldn't drink in yet, save for butterbeer and as for Madame Puddifoot's, that place could only  
emphasize his loneliness, what with all the couples populating its tables. He was at length persuaded to go after much badgering by Hermione, who told him there would be a meeting in the Hog's Head, which might be to his benefit to attend.

Finding himself in the pub therefore, he sat and waited. He had arrived much earlier than the others somehow. The landlord was looking at him peculiarly, the older man caught Draco's eye, he looked very familiar from somewhere, but Draco couldn't quite put his finger on it. Who did the man look like? Draco didn't have time to work it out as before long his quiet thoughts were suppressed by the entrance of Hermione and a mob of students. What was this going to be about? Hermione soon explained.

'Well, I expect many of you are wondering why I asked you here today.' She began. This was greeted with nods of agreement throughout the group, including from Draco. What were they doing there?

'We are all in agreement that our preparation in Defence lessons has been woeful and that without drastic changes we simply shall not pass come the summer. I would therefore like to invite you to join a society where we shall work on both the theoretical and practical aspects of defensive magic, to be taught by none other than Harry, here.'

A startled Harry, got up, tried to say that he was lucky each time, but his hungry audience would have none of it. Soon Harry was forced to admit that he did have _some _skill in that area and agreed to lead what was to be named the Defence Association and Hermione had them all ready to sign a charter.

'We'll sign.' Fred began, 'but don't you think we could have a better name. One that doesn't make us sound like a cartful of geriatrics discussing how to beat off petty thieves with our walking sticks.' This proved a popular notion, and soon they were Dumbledore's Army. As the ink of his signature dried on the parchment Draco felt a thrill - this was definitely not something they were supposed to be doing. After he had signed, Draco hung back to talk with Hermione, as had Ron, Harry, Fred , and George. A quick round of butterbeers on Draco preceded the walk back to the castle.

'You know, Hermione, I never had you pegged for a troublemaker.' George said.

'Well, sometimes, I think there are things more important than school rules.'

'Could have fooled me.' Draco quipped, deadpanning for mere seconds before a big smile filled his face, a smile of genuine amusement.

'That's not hard.' Hermione jibed back. Draco just smiled more widely. It was nice to be having fun with his friends again. After all, what were friends for if not to laugh at and be laughed at in turn? It had been agreed that the first meeting wouldn't be for several weeks yet, as there was the problem of finding a suitable meeting room. A problem that was only intensified when the High Inquisitor banned all student societies and meetings of more than four persons. Whilst quidditch clubs and other, small scale, student activities were soon given special permission to reform, the DA could hardly do so- their very existence had broken half a dozen school rules before this, and Umbridge would hardly welcome her special strategy to prevent students learning any defensive magic being so simply circumvented. The room that they would meet in would have to be more secret than any they could think of. The Chamber of Secrets was dismissed as being too small, unstable and difficult to access to be of any possible use and nowhere else could they guarantee that Umbridge couldn't find them. It was a knotty problem. Very knotty. A problem that occupied the four friends' every waking thought. And it was Draco who discovered the answer.

Whilst pacing along the seventh floor corridor, wishing that he could find somewhere for the DA to hold their meetings when a door suddenly appeared. He stuck his head inside. This was perfect, right opposite that tapestry. Draco ran back to the common room to find someone to tell. Hermione was there, and he dragged her out to the seventh floor.

'The door's just opposite that tapestry.'

'This one?'

'Yup.'

'Draco, there's no door.'

'What do you mean, it was there just fifteen minutes ago, how can it have disappeared?'

'I don't know, you tell me. But there is definitely no door there now.'

Hermione walked off, and Draco felt rather a fool. How could he explain it? Where had the door gone? He walked past the tapestry again, wishing that the room would come back, and then there was the door. Perhaps you had to be alone. Or maybe you just needed to wish the room to appear? Delighted by his discovery, he ran off after Hermione to share the good news.


	32. Chapter 32

The room proved to be perfect for the job- when they needed to have targets, they had targets, when they needed padding to soften their falls, they had padding. When they needed to hide from Filch, he couldn't get in. The room met their every need and surpassed every expectation. Delighted at the success of the first meeting of the DA, Draco went to bed happy and woke up feeling much the same. It was his discovery that had made it all possible. Draco's elation soon turned ot frustration when the next morning's Prophet arrived.

**_Minister changes Voldemort position._**

_The Minister for Magic has announced today that it shall be the official position of the government that there are no Dark Lords currently active in Britain. "The previous position was based upon inaccurate reports which have not been substantiated after a considerably period of time has now passed, thus showing there to be no such wizard operational in this country today." A Ministry spokeswizard said in a press briefing._

_Prophet readers will remember how the original reports were given to the Ministry by Albus Dumbledore as an explanation for how Cedric Diggory died in the Triwizard tournament. If this claim has been disproved as the Ministry claims then surely there must be doubts as to the veracity of the venerable headmaster's other statements. When asked about this, a senior Ministry official said that the Ministry had every confidence in Albus Dumbledore._

Every confidence. They were going to get rid of Dumbledore. Draco knew it the moment he read those words, how could it be otherwise? Those words were only ever used when somebody was about to be gotten rid of. The ministry couldn't just fire him, for a headmaster as popular as Dumbledore there would have to be a reason, and a very good reason at that. He was safe from the staff inspections - he didn't teach – and he was safe from the paranoia of Fudge- to get rid of Dumbledore would look too much like politics - so there had to be a further plan underway to dispose of him. What could it be? Draco had to confess that he couldn't think of anything, no matter how much he tried.

The quidditch season proceeded with Gryffindor doing well, but the threat of Umbridge sticking Harry into detention just before the start of a critical match loomed large over the team. So far, Harry had managed to restrain himself after her instant willingness to disbelieve him about the return of Voldemort following the Ministry's change of policy had nearly landed him in detention. The Gryffindor team had won their first match against Hufflepuff and their chances of keeping the cup looked good.

As the Christmas holiday approached the first snow came. It started one evening, and by the time they awoke it covered the land in a thick covering of white. The snow prevented all outside lessons and made the inside of the castle strangely cold, it did disappear at long last into thick brown slush, just in time for the school to leave for the holidays. Draco stayed behind, his uncle didn't have time to look after him, he had written-apparently he was still busy finishing the important project he'd begun over the summer. That suited Draco- he could concentrate on working for his OWLs, and with the mountain of work that his teachers had set him, access to the school's library couldn't possibly hurt.

The break was proving to be largely uneventful and Draco had settled into a standard routine, up early and down to breakfast. Two sausages, one rasher of bacon, sauté potatoes, fried mushrooms, baked beans and toast. Wash breakfast down with pumpkin juice. Head upstairs and get quill and ink. Head to library and work on the essay of the day. Work until lunch. Lunch. Head back to the library and continue work on the essay. Stop at two hours past sunset. Head back to the common room. One game of gobstones with Harry. Two games of chess with Ron. Exploding snap with Hermione. Dinner. Common room. Talk. Poke the fire. Talk. Bed. Repeat.

On this particular day, Draco was working on a transfiguration essay. Finally fed up with the work and noticing it was dark, Draco headed back to the common room and went about the rest of his evening as usual. He had just settled down in bed between crisp sheets when he left his bed-clothes, but freshly warm, woken by a vigorous shaking. It was a frightened Harry.

'What is it?' Draco uttered sleepily.

'I've had another dream.'

'A dream? You wake me for a dream?'

'It was like that one I had before the cup. I was a snake, and I attacked someone. Ron's dad. What should I do?'

'Tell someone.'

'About a dream. Who?'

'There's only one person. Dumbledore.'

'But how do we see him?'

'Ask McGonagall.'

'What, me?'

'You had the dream. Wake Ron, we'll go with you.'

'Alright.'

McGonagall was disturbed, and initially felt that Harry had had a nightmare, but Draco and Ron insisted that they should go to Dumbledore, and she yielded. Sweeping through the corridors of the cold and empty castle in their nightclothes they approached the office of the venerable headmaster. Professor McGonagall spoke the password and they climbed the tall stair to the office, where the old man lay in wait.

'What brings you here?'

'I had a dream, sir. Like that one I had last summer. I was a snake, sliding through somewhere, I don't know where, and then I saw Arthur Weasley. I, the snake that is, attacked him. I think he is in danger.'

'That may be.'

Dumbledore swept into action, marshalling portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses to his will. Away they swept, delivering messages to the living, to prevent the ranks of thedead being swelled by Arthur Weasley. Not only the long dead were sent to action; Minerva McGonagall was sent to fetch the other Weasley children, whereas Harry, Ron and Draco were sent to fetch clothes, such as they might not be in their bedclothes. When they returned, fully clad in warm robes and thick socks they found Dumbledore in grave mood.

'He's alive, but only just. Arthur is in St Mungo's, and you are to go, all of you, to Headquarters there to wait Mrs Weasley. I shall come with you.'

He stepped into the broad and ancient fireplace that adorned one wall of the headmaster's office. Its brick arch was high enough to contain a man, and its width was sufficient to hold a crowd of ten full grown men. Inside the fireplace the Weasleys stood, accompanied by Dumbledore, Harry and Draco, but not for long, for with a flourish Dumbledore threw down floo powder enough to transport them all, and before long Draco found himself in a place he had never been before. The fireplace was twice as large as the one into which they had just left and it led out onto a great room, all in marble and sandstone.

Over the doors were ornate carvings of a great bird wreathed in flames, which Draco soon saw made out the pillars of the door frames. Every door was alike in size, dignity and stature and led out into similar chambers beyond. Dumbledore led them through one of these great doors through the chamber outside it and into a long corridor. The floors were black and white and the walls wood-panelled. Along the corridor Dumbledore strode, with the rest of them trying to keep up.

Dumbledore rounded the corner, rushed down the carpeted steps and turned into the largest kitchen Draco had ever seen. They sat down at the table and waited.

'What's happening?' Fred asked.

'Your father's been attacked. They've got him in St Mungo's and we're waiting for your mother to turn up, so you can go and see him.'

That seemed to answer all of the questions the Weasleys had, so for a while they sat in silence.

'What's happened to him.' Ginny asked.

'He's suffering from a snake bite. He was in a critical condition, but I understand that he's been transferred to the recovery ward, which implies that he is doing well.'

Another terrible silence filled the room.

'Sir, where are we?' Draco asked at length.

'This, is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. It's nearly finished, but I believe the builders are still in. I shouldn't be surprised if he was going to appear to prepare the tea for his tea-break soon.'

'Sir, what's this order thingy?'

'The Order of the Phoenix is a group of witches and wizards who are willing to fight against Voldemort whilst the Ministry dithers.'

'So, Sir, could...'

'No, only overage witches and wizards can join.' Dumbledore headed Draco off before he could finish his question. Once more silence filled the room. After what felt like hours, a man walked into the room, put the kettle on and walked out again. Draco didn't see his face until he returned, to take the kettle off the heat.

'Uncle Noctifer! What are you doing here?'

'This and that. What are you doing here?'

'Professor Dumbledore brought me.'

'I see. Well, tea's brewed, so I best get back to work. See you later kiddo.' And with that his uncle left. The next person to enter the room was Molly Weasley, who then left with Harry and the other Weasleys to visit their father. Harry had said that he wasn't sure he could go, but Mrs Weasley had insisted, after all, it was Harry's dream that had saved her husband.

When they had gone, Draco found himself alone, save for the company of Albus Dumbledore.

'Well, Draco, is there anything you want to talk about?'

'Not particularly, Sir. Actually, yes, you used to teach transfiguration, didn't you?'

'Yes.'

'Well, Sir, I was doing an essay on Gamp's Laws earlier today, well, I suppose it's yesterday now, and I was wondering about the first exception to his law.'

'You were wondering about food?'

'Yes, and how the fact that it is an exception can be reconciled with muggle atomic theory- one of them must be wrong.'

'I didn't have you down as one to read about muggle theories. What's that one about again?'

'Well, basically everything is made of smaller things which are all the same or something like that, I don't really understand it, but shouldn't it be possible to get these things and combine them to make food?'Dumbledore seemed impressed and sat, wiggling his long fingers silently for a moment before giving his answer.

'Well, I must confess I'm not perfectly sure, but I imagine it would be possible when you put it like that, but it would probably fall foul of Waffling's Complexity Law in the end.'

'I've not heard of that one, Sir.'

'Well, I'm not surprised. We don't even teach it at NEWT level anymore, haven't done for years. It fell out of fashion - a pity really, it was a really good thing to be able to blame failures on, but it did have a solid theoretical basis, or so Waffling claimed. He never showed anyone his working for it, just jotted it down in a margin in a treatise on the fundamental laws and said he had a proof somewhere.'

'Oh yes?'

'Yes, there's a prize fund of a million sickles for anyone who can find the proof. Personally I reckon Waffling had an intuition, but couldn't prove it. But I suppose you want to know what it says. Well, the textbook summary is _as the number of distinct object upon which a spell must perform increases, its feasibility increases proportional to of this factor._'

'Feasibility, Sir?'

'Yes, it's a measure of the practicality of the spell, you'd have done _that_ with Professor Flitwick, surely.'

'Yes, that one we've done. Thank you Sir. Sir? What's my uncle doing here?'

'Well, I said that we still had the builders in , didn't I? Well, he's the builder. Being working here over the summer. I'm surprised he didn't tell you.'

'He said he wasn't allowed.'

'Well, I suppose I told him he wasn't, but I would have thought he'd have told you. Well. Ther you go.'

'And what's he doing here in the middle of the night?'

'I think he wants to get the job done. He's also installing most of the security charms, and some of them need to be cast at night, and since its new moon tonight, that could well explain it.'

In the distance an owl hooted and the screeching of mating foxes filled the air. Draco shivered, despite the warmth of the room, where the range was always burning.

'Fancy some cocoa? I always find it helps me relax.'

'I shouldn't say no, Sir.'

'Well, the kettle's over there and the cocoa's in a jar behind it. You know what to do, I'm sure.'

Draco didn't, but made a good attempt earlier, and Dumbledore's timely instructions prevented him from making too many mistakes. In the end the cocoa was nearly undrinkable, but it did have the singular merit of being, as Dumbledore put it, warm and wet.

'I always like a good cocoa.' Dumbledore began.

'Shame that's nothing like a good cocoa.' Draco said, bringing a smile to both of their faces.

'Well, I've had worse.' Dumbledore said.

'I don't think I've had cocoa before, so I can't say the same.'

'Pity, cocoa's always good before bed.'

'Are you about to send me to bed then?'

'No. I was wondering if you wanted to talk about things.'

'What things?'

'This, that the other. Your parents, the war yet to break, anything at all.'

'I'm alright, Sir.'

'Are you?'

'As well as can be expected considering...'

'Considering what?'

'Considering my Father hates me, my Mother died giving birth to a sister who's also dead and I didn't get invited to the funeral, I'm getting on quite well. Quite well.' Draco wasn't sure he wanted to say all this, but somehow it just came out. 'I don't want ot tell anyone about it, but I can't help feeling it's all my fault. They knew they couldn't have any more children-it's a miracle she survived giving birth to me, and well, if I hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor, he never would have needed to have another child as heir and she'd still be alive.'

'It's a terrible thing to have the death of a loved one on one's conscience, Draco, but know this, it wasn't your fault. Your Father could have done a thousand and one other things. He could have adopted an heir from some other family. He could have not disinherited you, he could...'

'He couldn't.'

'What?'

'He couldn't have not disinherited me, it's in Grandfather's will.'

'Will's can be ignored, if they're sufficiently, unusual.'

'Father would never ignore Grandfather's will. Not until the portraits stop talking, anyway.'

'Anything for a quiet life, you're saying?'

'Regrettably, yes.'

'Never mind, Draco. With the upcoming war, you're probably best off having been sorted into Gryffindor.'

'What do you mean?'

'Your father's more than just permanent secretary to the Minister, Draco.'

'What do you mean?'

'He's, well, how to put it, a friend to all parties in the forthcoming war.'

'What? You mean. No. He's a Death Eater?'

'Yes.' Dumbledore said simply.


	33. Chapter 33

Arthur Weasley recovered slowly, but by Christmas he was in a reasonable state, so the Weasleys and Harry went to visit him, leaving Draco back in headquarters with no-one else except Hermione.

'Draco, I've been thinking.'

'No change there, then.'

'Well, you know there was all that unpleasantness last year with Rita Skeeter.'

'Unpleasantness, now that's a euphemism if ever I heard one.'

'Well, you remember I told you about how we found her out, don't you?'

'Not really, was I there?'

'Possibly not, anyway, she's an unregistered animagus- she can turn into some bug or other. Now, I could persuade her to write a story about how you-know-who's back and how the ministry is hushing it up. What do you think about that?'

'Why though?'

'Well, it might force the ministry to admit that it's got the whole he's-not-back thing wrong. That'd be good, and if it doesn't, then what's the worst that could happen?'

Draco shrugged his shoulders.

'You know what, Hermione, you can be really evil when you want to, can't you?'

'Evil. Me?' Hermione said, feigning surprise with a malevolent glint in her eyes.

'Just remind me never to get into your bad books. Or give you anything on me that you might be able to use when I get there.'

'Why would I do that?' Hermione jested, 'that's not very evil, is it?'

Draco couldn't help but laugh, Hermione joined in and they didn't stop for another ten minutes, when each was about to stop, the laughing of the other set the other off, over and over again.

'Right that's enough laughing, my ribs hurt.' Draco said, in a businesslike manner.

'Yeah like you can just stop laughing.' Hermione giggled. Draco tried hard to stop himself and almost succeeded, when a loud guffaw snuck out of his mouth.

'Told you so.' Hermione said.

'Well, other than plotting world domination, have you got any plans for the day?'

'No.'

'Fancy a game of something then? I think there's some board games round here somewhere.'

'Where did they come from, they weren't here over the summer?'

'Oh, Uncle Noctifer brought them round, when I realised I'd be spending Christmas here, he brought them round.'

'What is there?'

'Scrabble, Monopoly and Risk.'

'Anything else?'

'That's it. What do you fancy?'

'Well, we've got hours, so a game of Monopoly, I suppose. Here's hoping I get Mayfair.'

'Mayfair? What's that, the name of the dog or something?'

'No, it's the most expensive property, you know, the one just before Go.'

'Oh. Right I'm with you. I don't think you will though, this is the Wizard version. It hasn't got Mayfair on it. I think that one's Hogwarts Castle.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, really.'

'What's Park Lane? You know, the less expensive purple one?'

'I can't remember.' Draco swiftly lied. Maybe Monopoly hadn't been such a great idea after all. Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound, as they say.

They opened up the board. Hermione poured over it, noticing every detail

'Go directly to Azkaban, do not pass go, do not collect 200 galleons, I like that one.'

'What's so good about it?'

'Well, we've only got go to jail in the muggle version.'

'It doesn't have the same ring, does it?'

'Not really.'

'Right then let's have another look, see what other changes there are. Well, community chest and chance are the same, Go and Just Visiting, they're the same too. Free Parking's changed though- it's Common Ground on this.'

'What's Free Parking?'

'Well, it's the same as Common Ground.'

'No, not in the game, in real life.'

'Oh! It's a place where you can leave your car for free.'

'Oh. Useful to know, that.'

'If you can find it.'

'True.'

'What else, Park Lane's _Malfoy Manor?_ How posh are you?'

'Less than I used to be.'

'Oh. Of course. Sorry.' Hermione blushed.

The game continued until late and had not ended even by the time that the Weasleys and Harry returned to the headquarters. Draco won, and Hermione demanded rematch, which , with the return of Arthur Weasley and the increasing busyness of the headquarters of the Order, began to take longer and longer. They had only just finished the game, this time won by Hermione, when it was time for them to return to school. Their presence on the school train surprised no-one, for no-one that they cared about had not known them to have left Hogwarts.

When back at the school, they found that nothing had changed. The suits of armour still lined the corridors, the teaching was much the same, regrettably so in the cases of Snape and Umbridge, and quidditch still dominated the conversations in the boys' dormitory.

Early in this term did Harry begin occlumency lessons with Snape and Hermione accomplish her plan. It was not long until the Daily Prophet printed the year's most sensationalist article, written by Skeeter telling of Voldemort's return. An exclusive interview with Harry had ensured she wrote the piece without even on iota's worth of encouragement and Hermione's secret knowledge regarding the beetle animagus ensured that it went against the official Ministry position. Little did Hermione know when she arranged it, that the article would have the power to topple governments and change the course of official policy.

In Malfoy Manor the Daily Prophet was picked up by Lucius Malfoy as he did every morning. Freshly delivered by the house-elf Dobby and freshly ironed, none of the ink came off on his clean fingers. A quick perusal showed that Skeeter had started to write again, and this time, not the gossip column. This was far more damaging to the Minister. Today's would be a busy one at work. Dressed smartly as ever, in a fine suit beneath his long elegant robes, Lucius Malfoy finished the paper, stood up and with a crack stepped forward into his office. The bell rang energetically and LUcius stepped through into the office of the Minister of Magic.

'Good morning Minister.'

'Have you read the papers?'

'I have, Minister.'

'It's terrible isn't it?'

'What, the mass breakout from Azkaban or the Skeeter article.'

'The Skeeter one of course. The only people to report the breakout were the people on the Quibbler, and no-one believes anything they read in that out piece of trash. It's only fit for wrapping fish and chips in.'

'Quite so, Minister, do you intend to take any action on it?'

'Action? Well, there's only one thing that we can do really, and that's to make sure that the prophet doesn't report the Azkaban breakout.'

'Well, Minister, you know that I cannot perform any political act in my role as permanent secretary to the minister. It would be a total misuse of government funds.'

'Well, it won't take you long, besides who is going to know?'

'I regret to say minister, that insofar as it is within the capability of any civil servant to say no to the Minister himself, that on this occasion, given the prefatory arguments that have been previously given there can be no doubt of the impossibility of the very nature of your request; government money represented y the employed time of the many civil servants cannot and must not be used for the advancement of any political scheme by anyone, even so exalted an individual as the Minister of Magic of Great Britain et cetera.'

'You mean no?'

'I regret to confirm that I am unable to reply in the affirmative, Minister.'

'You mean no. Very well. I can rely on your discretion?'

'Of course Minister, it would not be appropriate to disclose information of privates conversations, nor could it prove possible to do so unless said conversations had been minuted, because unless something has been recorded in the official minutes by one of the officials officiating at an official meeting, then a conversation has never actually officially happened.' Lucius Malfoy concluded, apparently without drawing breath.

'Well, I trust that I can rely on your help to organise the capture of the escapees?'

'Is that not a matter for the Auror office Minister? And at any rate, I feel that is a very brave decision, Minister.'

'It is?' Fudge said, fearfully.

'It is, Minister. Many of those who have escaped are the relatives of your strongest supporters, I very much doubt that any of them will appreciate you using your power to restore their loved ones to their previous incarcerated state.'

'You're saying it might not be popular.'

'Minister, popularity is not mine to dole out, I merely say, as a humble functionary, that many of these individuals are not proven to be guilty, given the nature of Sirius Black's imprisonment, and that it may be wiser to let them show themselves, rather than wasting government money on a wild goose chase.'

'I see. Well, perhaps we don't really need to see that they are all arrested. wE'll leave t to the auror's to decide what to do. There's no point putting pressure on them, they have a hard enough job anyway, just working out who's gone and repairing the damage. We don't need to do anything.'

'Yes, Minister.'

Several other routine matters transpired, and an emergency meeting of the senior Wizengamot officials of the government party to discuss the Azkaban breakout. Only Death Eaters had escaped, just as Lord Voldemort confirmed in Lucius' other meeting of the day, the only difference being that in the meeting with the Dark Lord, he was participating, not officiating. By the end of the week, the situation for Fudge had worsened. Some indiscrete soul had let slip to the Prophet that the Azkaban breakout had occurred and that Lord Voldemort was behind. Fudge had carried on in his vehement denials of the Dark Lord's return and had found himself on the wrong side of public opinion to such a great extent that he was in a minority of one. He had resigned that afternoon, to be replaced by none other than Bartemius Crouch. That was terrible, for Barty may be an old man, but he still possessed all of his wits and his razor sharp mind could probably penetrate the webs that he, Lucius, had been used to weaving about the previous ministers. Crouch was a man to be reckoned with, and would severely reduce his utility to the Dark Lord. This was not a good thing for Lucius, for the Dark Lord was not a man to disappoint, or to deliver bad news to, unless one relished the prospect of the cruciatus curse. In the end Lucius decided to remain silent on the matter unless asked, after all, discretion is the better part of valour, thought Lucius.


	34. Chapter 34

Earlier that week at Hogwarts, circumstances had quickly changed. As they met that night for practice- Hermione was a bit late as she said goodbye to Skeeter – they had no idea what was about to happen. They were practising Patronus charms when they heard a great banging at the door. They stopped and turned round, and the door came flying off of its hinges straight back at them. In the doorway stood a short, toadlike woman. Umbridge. There was nowhere to go.

'Got you now, aren't we in trouble.' Umbridge Grinned nastily at them.' Cornelius will be concerned to hear this.'

'Hear what?'

Umbridge pulled out a long sheet of parchment, which had in big, bold letters upon the top the words Dumbledore's Army inscribed.

'This. He'll be gald to know I've discovered your treachery, Potter!'

'What!'

'We at the Ministry have long known that you only claimed that The Dark Lord had returned to cover your own rebellion. Come with me, Potter, Weasley, Malfoy, Granger, Longbottom. The rest of you, I know who you are.' She waved the list. 'So I'll deal with you later.'

'She marched them up to Dumbledore's office. Inside a grim scene awaited them. Half a dozen aurors had their wands pointed squarely at Dumbledore's chest and Cornelius Fudge, despite the precarious nature of his position, was playing out the final power game of his ministership.

'What do you call this Dumbledore. No don't answer that! You know what I call it! Open rebellion against the ministry, that's what I call it!' Fudge Bellowed. Dumbledore smiled back at him bemused.

'Ah, Cornelius, is this what it has come to? Trying to secure your power by arresting me? Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't intend to, ah, how to put it? Yes, _come quietly_. No indeed. You may have me as a traitor, yet you may not have me.' Dumbledore raised his gaunt and wizened arm and Fawkes flew to him. A few quick spells knocked out all of the aurors and in a flourish Dumbledore vanished. Within a few minutes, Fudge had brought the aurors round.

'What happened?' one muttered.

'He escaped you halfwit.'

Fudge blustered angrily from the fateful office, appointing Umbridge as headmistress as he left. Within mere days he was no longer minister.

Despite Dumbledore's disappearance the everyday school routine carried on as usual. Umbridge gave notices when necessary, not that it was often, and took all of the headmaster's duties, yet none of his rewards, since the headmaster's office locked her out. Rumour spread that Dumbledore had returned and was locked inside.

Rumour spread like wildfire throughout the many corridors and passages of might Hogwarts castle, rumours of the exiled headmaster, rumours of offices and titles, rumours of meetings clandestine and secret, and above all, the most fearful rumours of careers advice.

The dreaded day dawned for Draco and he had a strange knot in his stomach, as if he was about to do something really important. At the preordained time he strolled into McGonagall's office where he found not one, but two women sitting opposite him. One was expected-McGonagall, the other wasn't- Umbridge.

'Well, sit down, Draco.'

'Thank-you, Professor.'

'Well, do you have any ideas for what you want to do?'

'I haven't really thought about it.'

'I see. Well, what do you enjoy?'

'Cricket.'

'How about a different tack, what interests you?'

'Well, everything really. I don't really care that much about potions, but beyond that I'm not fussy.'

'I see. So from your perspective the issue of jobs is not so mucha case of who'll have you, but one of the agony of choice?'

'I suppose you could put it that way, Professor.'

'What about a ministry job?'

'With your father's connection I would have thought you could get almost any job you wanted.' Umbridge interrupted.

'I've never really fancied a ministry job, though.'

'Well, that certainly cuts down the field.' Professor McGonagall said, humourlessly.

'I suppose so.'

'Well, there's the usual jobs in bars, shops and so forth, or else there's the more unusual broomstick design, if you're interested in charmwork , that might be a bit more down your street. Then there are jobs in the muggle world, but you haven't done muggle studies.'

'I wouldn't need to to play cricket, would I?'

''No, but are you sure that you're good enough to make it? It can't hurt to have a back up plan. After all, what happens if you have a career ending injury before you've earned any money?'

'I suppose you're right. I suppose my favourite subject is either charms or transfiguration, but I don't know what I want to do.'

'Transfiguration and charms, eh? Well, there's plenty of things available if you do well at those, so I'd advise you take them at NEWT level, as for other subjects, I'd take what you enjoy. You're certainly very able, so there should be no trouble with you doing the full set of NEWTs, since you don'thave anything particular in mind I'd say take something that you enjoy, but in the name of Merlin, Draco, I beg you to do something challenging.'

'OK Professor, thank you.'

'No problem, send the next person in.'

'Thanks, Professor, see you later.'

'Goodbye, Mr Malfoy.'

The weeks continued as per usual, potions lessons were their usual tormentative selves, charms lessons were useful, defence lessons about as much use as a chocolate teapot. In all of the subjects however, everything was becoming significantly harder, as the preparation for OWLs went up a gear. They were now writing twice as many essays as they had just three months ago and the work showed no sign of letting up, if anything, the opposite was true. Many times Draco found the set of textbooks that Dumbledore had given him to be incredibly useful, as they covered everything he needed and the recommended textbooks were more often than not taken out of the library by someone else. Lunch was now starting to be Draco's favourite part of the day, with its hour break giving welcome respite from the cares of the day. Normally draco would meet up with the rest of the gang at lunchtime, even when they had been in different lessons. Today however they didn't show. Why was that? When the bell rang to mark the end of lunch and the restart of lessons, Draco made up his mind to ask about it later.

'Hermione? How are you?'

'Fine,thanks. Why d'you ask?'

'I didn't see you guys at lunch, so I thought something might be up.'

'Well.' Hermione looked about, to check that no-one was paying them any attention. 'We had Care of magical creatures just before lunch. Hagrid wanted to show us something.'

'What?'

'The reason he wasn't here at the start of term, the reason he's had all of those black eyes. His brother.'

'Hagrid's got a brother?'

'Well, he's a half brother really, all giant.'

'And you got introduced? I don't envy you.'

'Grawp's alright. Hagrid only showed him to us because he thinks Umbridge is going to sack him.'

'But with Fudge gone...'

'Crouch's hands are tied. Fudge has an arrest warrant out on Dumbledore for rebellion, and unless evidence comes up to the contrary, Crouch can't do anything. That's what Hagrid says, anyway.'

'So until He-who-must-not-be-named shows his ugly face, we're stuck with Umbridge and she can do pretty much whatever she likes.'

'Seems that way.'

'Great.'

'You're telling me.'

The next day dawned and Hagrid's suspicions were proved correct. Umbridge had summoned a squad of hitwizards to take Hagrid away from the castle. The only person to stand up for him was Minerva McGonagall, who got hit squarely in the chest by at least four stunning spells and had to be taken away to St Mungo's for treatment. With McGonagall gone, the last strand of resistance to Umbridge melted away. McGonagall had been at the troublemaking's head, her position as deputy headmistress protecting her from any official reprisal from Umbridge. Now no teacher dared to cross her, either to her face or behind her back, even if they all wanted her gone. The school fell into a silent and sullen obedience to its new regime. All except for two individuals. Fred and George.

Fred and George disliked Umbridge as much as the next pupil, but they didn't care about their futures at Hogwarts- ever since Harry had givent hem his Triwizard winnings of a thousand galleons, they had been looking to open up a joke shop. Their research reached new heights and soon the school was full of free samples of skiving snackboxes –sweets o get you out of lessons by causing nosebleeds, vomiting and so forth – as well as fake wands that turned into rubber chickens and the traditional punching telescopes. They had taken up a personal vendetta against Umbridge and were beginning to make her life a misery. Soon the whole school was being led by them in a rebellion of noncooperation. Fred and George would do something, and no one else would do anything about it if not for Umbridge herself, or Filch, who seemed to have found a liking for the new headmistress- it was probably something to do with her encouraging him to keep the thumbscrews oiled on the grounds that they might need using.

Their campaign was not to last however, and culminated in a spectacular last victory. Noone expected it, except for the two who planned it. A successful attempt to create magical fireworks in the early weeks of the term had led to a long-winded plan to leave their mark before disappearing for good.

Early one morning, a disposable swamp appeared outside of the charms corridor. Flitwick, despite being able to clear it up in a heartbeat, ran to Umbridge to get her to do the work instead. Every time she cast a spell on it, it grew and grew, until soon the entire floor was covered with the thick bog. By the time she finally gave up and asked Flitwick ton help, she was covered from head to foot in thick, deep, stinking mud. Her day was only just starting.

By lunchtime, Snape had come to her, complaining that the dungeon was full of Peruvian instant darkness powder, and he couldn't see to teach. He went on to explain that there was also the matter of students losing digits in the dark, as they tried to slice roots and ended up slicing fingers instead. Umbridge went down to the dungeons to deal with that, as she had been asked, and soon found herself stumbling around, bumping into things and knocking things over. By the time she reached lunchtime, she was battered and bruised all over, and still hadn't had time to clear the mud off of her, which was beginning to dry and itch slightly.

Lunchtime in the Great Hall looked like it was going to be normal, although every Umbridge went, a strange silence in the whispers followed her. Whenever she appeared, people started talking about the weather, instead of whatever they had just been whispering about. Very soon, the whole school knew what a day she'd had. It was about to get worse.

From their positions on the Gryffindor table, Fred and George had yet another trick up their sleeves. The fireworks they'd created since their previous breakthrough were now a considerable stock. Each had a bag, enlarged on the inside, which held dozens of huge fireworks. They started off subtly, with a small roman candle. They levitated it, invisibly, behind the great throne of the headmaster, upon which Umbridge sat. A quick flick of a wand beneath the table set it off. The whole hall burst out in nervous giggling. Umbridge, seeing nothing to cause it, seemed unsure at first whether to keep her reservation and carry on looking forward, or to look wildly around for why everyone was laughing. It must have been at her after all. Finally, her composure all gone, she looked about and saw the last of the sparks die away behind her. Furious she looked forwards, her beady eyes scanning the hall for the culprits. She couldn't find them. Then, another dozen rockets exploded in the hall. The student body screeched and ran away, benches and tables being turned over in the mad rush to escape the explosions. Draco was caught up in the rush, which was less at the Gryffindor table than anywhere else- some of them knew exactly what had been going on. After years with Fred and George, how could it be otherwise? The markedly casual exodus from the Gryffindor table was in steep contrast to the other houses, yet Umbridge could do nothing. Every spell that hit the fireworks made them multiply and grow larger. A couple of extra fireworks and soon the room was full of deafening explosions. The school waited outside the hall, nervously looking in. Every so often they all ducked as a firework would come shooting out of the hall, but for the most part they stayed inside. Looking round for the twins to congratulate them, Draco noticed that they had disappeared. Soon they were back, brooms sloped over their identical shoulders. They waited for Umbridge to leave the Hall, lobbed the remainder of the fireworks at her, mounted their brooms and flew off. One final firework lit up the sky elegantly in a vast display of celebration as the greatest disruptive influence that the ancient school had seen in years disappeared over the horizon as tiny black dots. The school body cheered them on their way, with even the remaining staff quietly celebrating. Umbridge was blackened by the smoke and seemingly deafened. She had definitely had a bad day. Thankfully, with exams so close, there was little she could do in way of retribution, so she let the day's events pass. Indee, only one person seemed troubled by the spectacular exit of the Weasley twins- Lee Jordan.

'Tell you what, Draco, we're buggered now the twins have gone.'

'What? Why?'

'Cricket. We're going to have to find another opening bat and another bowler. George was a spinner as well- where are we going to find another one of those? I'm going to call an emergency session in the nets for selection. I want you there- you should be able to help a lot with selection, after all, you're going to be vice-captain.'

'Thanks, Lee. When are the nets going to be?'

'With exams coming up, probably best that we do it as soon as possible before ht holidays, but with Hagrid gone, I don't know how we're going to get the nets up.'

'We could ask Filch- he may hate students, but he does love his cricket. We might be able to persuade him.'

'I suppose it's worth a try. Nice idea. Well, I've got an essay to write for the next period, so I'd best be off. I dare say you're supposed to be in lessons.'

'Transfiguration.' Draco said, by way of explanation – all of McGonagall's lessons had been cancelled since her hospitalisation.


	35. Chapter 35

Surprisingly, Filch had agreed to put up the nets and the Gryffindor team were the first to use them. It was just as well – the only players surviving from the previous team were Alicia, Draco and Lee, which left them eight players and ideally a couple of extras to find. Some players looked quite good, with Dean Thomas showing the potential to be a useful bat, but most of them were average at best. In order to bring the team into a semblance of the team that had two years ago swept all before it Lee instituted practice sessions twice a week. These sessions were long and gruelling. They all started with a run around the castle from the main entrance. When they returned they did stretches on their way to the nets and then two players padded up whilst the rest prepared to bowl at them. They would continue until everyone had had a bat, then it was time for fielding practise, with either Lee or Draco hitting balls out for the others to catch or driving balls quickly along the ground for them to stop. These practice sessions took eight hours of each week out of Draco's life, which should have concerned him, with OWLs coming up straight after the holiday. It didn't though, somehow, Draco was quietly confident about all of his OWLs going well, after all, he was top or nearly top, of the class in everything he did- there was no need to show concern. By the time that the Easter break had arrived, the team looked as though it might win some matches, given a bit of luck. At the final session of the pre-season training, Lee told them all to keep practising as much as possible over the holidays.

Despite Hermione's disapproval at spending this critical time playing sport rather than revising, Draco managed to spend about an hour every day in the nets, either on his own bowling at the stumps or with Harry or Ron giving him throw-downs to practise his batting when he could persuade them to risk the wrath of Hermione and abandon their revision for an hour or so. Despite the regular practice, Draco still managed to do plenty of revision. On many days he went to bed with aching wrist from writing so many essays and plotting so many arithmantical charts. Even once the holiday was over and relatively normal service had resumed, Draco still spent most of his time revising. In lessons they were revising, in their spare time they were revising. In the sleep they dreamt about revising. The only time Draco felt truly relaxed and could forget about exams was when he was practising cricket. Then he worried about how the team would come to actually resemble a team that could win the cup. The cricket season would only begin after the exams though, so Draco didn't worry about it too much. On one hand it was a long way away, on the same hand it was also Lee's problem to worry about.

Preparation for exams would have been easier of course had it been possible to get a good night's sleep every so often. With Harry in his dorm, that simply wasn't going to happen. The bad dreams that had told Harry of Arthur Weasley's attack were continuing and increasing in their manner. According to Harry, every dream was the same. It started with Harry as a dispossessed body, floating through a strange place to a corridor. The corridor had a door at the end. The non-body would, somehow, walk along the corridor to the door and try and open the door. Each time, Harry had explained, he would get closer. He still had no idea where the door was though. As Draco fell asleep, he wondered, as everyone else in the dorm did, quite how close Harry would get to opening the door that night.

As it turned out, Harry was getting very close. Close enough to read the sign on the door. He had woken up in a cold sweat and had soon after woken Draco and Ron.

'I could read the sign on the door.'

'What did it say?'

'Dept of Mistries' Harry spelt out.

'You sure you read that correctly. Mistires isn't a word.'

'No. It isn't. But that's what it said.'

Draco had turned pale.

'Don't you know what you've been looking at then?'

'No.'

'What?' Why'd you expect me to know?' Ron retaliated under Draco's heavy gaze.

'Because it's where your own father was attacked. I thought you might have heard something. Besides. What on earth was _your_ father doing outside of the Department of Mysteries?'

That meant something to Ron, who looked slightly shocked.

'The Department of Mysteries.' Ron whispered, wondrously.

'What's this department place, then?' Harry asked.

'It's top secret.' Ron began. 'I don't know anything about it.'

'I do.' Draco said, mysteriously. 'I've overheard a fair few conversations about it.'

'Oh yes?'

'Yes. It's in the Ministry somewhere. It's a sort of research department, I think. The people who work there aren't even allowed to talk about it, so whatever they do there must be important. No wonder _He_ wants to get whatever's in there.'

'Yeah. But wouldn't the aurors or hitwizards be guarding it or something?'

'Not if they think it's well enough protected.' Draco said pessimistically.

The next morning, or rather, later that day, they had their first OWL exam. Despite a knot in his stomach, Draco chatted nervously beforehand about the exam. He and Hermione ran through the fundamental laws of transfiguration and their notable exceptions. The conversation came to an abrupt halt as they were called in to sit the paper by a formidable, elderly witch. Filing in to the Hall, they took whatever seat they fancied. The invigilator gave a series of long winded announcements telling them not to cheat before starting them off. Draco dipped his in the inkwell and feverishly started to work. He quickly filled in the cover sheet of the answer book and opened the question paper, the knot in his stomach getting ever tighter. Then it went. He was caught up in the adrenaline rush. He could do this. He really could. All the questions were _easy_. Well, as easy as could be expected. He began to write like a man possessed. He scribbled and wrote and slowly the blank answer book began to transform into a filled answer book, containing Draco's best attempt. Two hours later, the exam was over. The adrenaline surge ended and Draco was left sitting there, in his seat, whilst the papers were collected in. This seemed to take even longer than the exam had and he was mightily relieved when it was done and they were at long last allowed to leave.

Outside of the hall, Draco met up with Hermione, Harry and Ron and walked with them back to the common room, discussing the exam in a strange kind of post-mortem all of the way. It turned out that Draco had answered some questions differently to Harry, who appeared concerned about it, particularly when Hermione came down on Draco's side. When he heard this, Draco felt a great relief. What if he'd put the wrong thing down? Thankfully, it appeared that he hadn't. Taking a seat in a great armchair near the empty fireplace, Draco let out a sigh of relief. That was better. Not long after, lunch appeared in the common room, since the great hall was out of bounds to all during exam time, except when people had exams in it.

Tucking into a chicken leg, Draco felt cautiously optimistic. The first exam had gone well and the second part, the practical transfiguration exam, which was due to take place after lunch didn't seem like it was going to be too hard either. Finishing the leg and starting on the accompanying potato salad, Draco decided that he was going to have another look through that transfiguration book of Dumbledore. After all, it might have a few useful clues in it. And possibly, which Draco felt was more important at that exact time, some inspiration. He quickly turned the pages, barely scanning each one, until his eyes fell across a diagram. That looked impressive. And not too difficult either, a quick swish. Yes. That would do for a party piece if he was asked for one and just in time too. That very moment, Harry came bounding up the stairs, two at a time to tell him that they were running late.

Since they were running late they ran to the great hall so as not to miss their next exam, practical transfiguration. They bounded through the slightly crowded halls, jumping stairs three at a time and bounding over the trick stairs which weren't there as they rapidly descended. Draco was beginning to be slightly out of breath when they reached the ground floor. He doubled over, placing his hands on his knees and locking his elbows in place. Three deeps breaths should help. And another three. And another. Good. They were being called in in alphabetical order. He was safe for a while, as Crabbe had only just been summoned. Enough time to get his breath back, After all, it was no good trying to perform magic when out of breath ordinarily, how much worse would exam nerves make that?

This time there was nothing to say. No last minute theoretical points to discuss, just a wand to prepare and a wrist to loosen up. Draco pulled his wand out from inside of his robes and swung it about like a sword.

'What?' he said, in reply to Hermione's accusing glare.

'You know what.' She began to reply, but at that moment she was called in. Not long after Hermione had reappeared, Draco was asked to go in himself. Resigned to his fate, he rolled his shoulders forwards and backwards and stretched his neck by tilting his head from side to side. One final shoulder roll and he was in the zone. An elderly woman called him over to her.

'Hello dear, I'm Madame Marchbanks. How are you doing?'

'Fine thanks.' Draco said nervously.

'Don't worry nothing to worry about, eh? Just a few quick transfigurations and it'll all be done. First things first though. What's your name?'

'Draco Malfoy.'

'Good, we have to check it's the right person, see.'

'I suppose so.'

'Well, the first thing I want you to do is to is a vanishing spell on that rubber mouse, there. See it?'

'Yup.' Said Draco. He looked at it and calmly levelled his wand in its direction, firmly gripping it with his right hand and resting it over his left arm, held out horizontally in front of him. A quick rotation of the wrist and the rubber mouse was gone.

'Very nice. Can you bring it back?'

Draco did so. Madame Marchbanks made a note of something on her clipboard.

'Well, that's good. Now, let's move onto something a little bit different. You see the kettle next to the mouse?'

'What, that great big copper one?'

'That's the one. I want you to turn it into a copy of the mouse. You have two minutes to think about it.'

Now this was much harder. How was he supposed to do that. The keetlle was a lot bigger than the mouse. He'd have to dispose of some of it somehow. But how could he do that? A brief memory of some advice that Professor Flitwick had given floated into his mind._ Remeber. Each stage of the exam is a precursor to the next one, start with the easy bits then move onto the harder ones._ Of course. HE'd had to vanish the mouse, so he was clearly meant to do the transformation and simultaneously vanish the rest of it. That had been in the textbook, hadn't it? Draco gave it a go. The kettle turned into a small, grey, rubber mouse, just like the one he had vanished not long before.

'Very nice. The ends of the whiskers are a shade lighter than in the original, but a ver nice piece of work. How did you deal with the excess?'

'The excess?' Draco said with a hint of confusion. Then what Marchbanks had been saying became clear. 'Oh, right, the excess, I just sort of simultaneously vanished what I didn't need to make the mouse. Is that alright?'

'A very novel approach, but perfectly workable. I was expecting you to use Hauptmann's minimisation manoeuvre, but your method works just as well.' There was a brie pause. 'Well, you've done very nicely so let's see how good you really are. Do you have something you'd lkike to show me?'

'Yes, I think so.' Said Draco, apparently uncertainly.

'Very good then. Carry on.'

'Could you just step back a few paces. I don't think there's enough room.'

'Not enough room?' Madame Marchbanks' bristly eyebrows ascended into her hat. Then Draco cast the spell. He'd seen Dumbledore do something similar at Christmas a few years ago, when he'd drawn a chintz armchair out of thin air. That was pretty advanced transfiguration. He'd do that.

Suddenly, another idea crossed into his head. Why stop there? Why not do a desk as well. And instead of an armchair how about a spinny chair? A wingbacked one. Yes. In red leather. That's what he'd do. Might be hard though. Should he do it.

'I'm waiting.' Madame Marchbanks kindly prompted.

'Oh, right, sorry.' Draco muttered. Under his breath. Now what would the incantation be. Of course. Draco said the words and waved the wand in what appeared to the untrained observer to be a rather haphazard manner. It was in fact a highly controlled waving about. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the chair and desk appeared. On top of the desk was a green leather writing surface, surrounded by brass. He'd done it. Well, almost. The leather on the chair was green. Never mind, Marchbanks wouldn't know. That'd do.

'Very impressive, Mr Malfoy. You're clearly one to watch.' The witch said, giving away little of what she was thinking.

'Thank you, I think.'

'Well that's it. You can go. Have a nice afternoon.' She said dismissing Draco. He wandered out of the Great Hall and out into the entrance hall. From there he turned left and headed outside to the nets, where Lee was wrapping up the session.

'You're a bit late, Draco.' He said, after the others had gone on their way.

'Well, I had this small little thing called an exam you see.' Draco explained, playing along.

'And you think that's more important than turning up to training?' Lee joked, 'Well, I fancy staying for a bit more. I need to work on my backwards defensive. Would you care to bowl a ball or two?'

'Suits me. So you want me bowling just short of a length then?'

'There or there abouts. You warm up whilst I get padded up. It wouldn't do to get injured now. You might not be fit for the matches.'

Draco stretched his shoulders in particular, although he gave his whole body something of a warm up which culminated in a quick jog. This would make a nice break from revision, Draco decided as he ran in to bowl the first ball to Lee.


	36. Chapter 36

Despite Hermione's vocal disapproval, Draco didn't regret the cricket practice for one moment. It had been great fun, and rather useful, although it had put him behind revising fort the charms exam, which would be happening the day after tomorrow. A hard day's work was in order therefore on the next day, in order to catch up with where he was supposed to be. It meant a slightly later night than Draco had first hoped for, but in the end, everything was covered and Draco had an inkling about what he might do for his party piece, if it went well enough.

The written paper went well enough, his answers agreed with Hermione's, which was always a good indication that it had gone well, and he came out with a feeling of confidence. He took the practical charms exam happily enough as well, he did everything that was asked, and managed a good answer to the theoretical question that popped up. He hadn't done as well as in transfiguration though – this time no party piece was required. This exam had not gone as well as the last and Draco was not feeling too happy about it. He couldn't mention it to anyone of course, it had gone well enough that complaining would simply seem like a subtle form of bragging, and that would never do. Thankfully, the issue of how the exam went never really came up in any detail- the usual post examination discussion was replaced by an exciting new piece of gossip. Whilst Draco had been sitting his practical exam, Professor McGonagall had returned and with her a degree of hope for the body of students and staff alike who felt unhappy about Umbridge's tenure as headmistress. The return of the formidable deputy head would soon see that right, or if not right, then better.

Draco had first found out about McGonagall's return when Harry had told him about it as their paths crossed when Draco left the great hall, but it was only later that he decided to seek her out. Dinner had just finished and since it was now a good three days until his next exam- the next OWL paper being sat happened to be care of magical creatures, which Draco didn't take- he wanted to ask about that question that had arisen during his transfiguration exam, namely what on earth Hauptmann's minimisation manoeuvre was. Leaving the common room whilst nearly everyone else was distracted by work, he prowled through the castle, using his right as a prefect to roam the castle on patrol to his advantage.

Reaching McGonagall's office, he knocked loudly on the door three times.

'Come in.' a weak voice replied from the inside. Draco opened the door, which creaked.

'Ahh, young Mr Malfoy. I hear that you've done rather well in your transfiguration practical.'

'Really, Professor?'

'Oh yes, Old Marchy's quite a good friend of mine, has been since she examined me at NEWT level.'

'She examined _you_?'

'No need to take that tone, Mr Malfoy, that's not that incredible. That she examined Professor Dumbledore however...' McGonagall's voice dwindled, as she left that comment unsaid.

'She examined Professor Dumbledore? Really?'

'Oh yes, I met her in the Hog's Head when I returned to the village yesterday. She was quite impressed with you. Said you were a real credit to your teachers.'

'Thank you, Professor.'

'Not at all. I just want to know one thing.'

'Professor?'

'What gave you the idea to materialise something? We haven't done that in class, nor would we had I not been. Hm hm. _Indisposed_.'

'Well, I saw Professor Dumbledore do it at the Christmas Feast a couple of years ago, Professor.'

'Oh yes, that trick of his. Well, I don't seem to remember teaching you it, or come to mention it, seeing Professor Dumbledore produce a desk at the same time. I'm surprised nothing went wrong.'

'Well, it did Professor. I meant to make a red leather chair and it turned out to be green. I didn't mention to Madame Marchbanks, since everything else had worked fine.'

'So you're saying the biggest problem you have is that the chair was the wrong colour?'

'Not quite, Professor. For the final bit of the exam I was supposed to turn a large kettle into a small rubber mouse.'

'I see.'

'Well, after I'd done it Madame Marchbanks asked be to explain what I'd done with the extra bits.'

'And?'

'Well, I said I'd vanished them simultaneously with the transfiguration.'

'As good an answer as any , I suppose.'

'Well, Madame Marchbanks was surprise I hadn't used Hauptmann's minimisation manoeuvre or something of that ilk. What is it?'

'Hauptmann's? My word, I haven't come across that in years. It's an old, old trick. Invented in the fourteenth century by a German wizard. It's a little flick at the end of the transfiguration designed to tidy up any leftover bits, essentially. We stopped teaching that at Hogwarts before I was even born. I wonder why she mentioned it.' There was a moment of silence as McGonagall pondered, the fingers of her right hand bouncing on her lips, pensively.

'Would you mind doing the transformation again? There's a kettle in the kitchen.'

Draco fetched the kettle and repeated his feat of a few days ago.

'So that's why she asked.'

'Why?'

'Because you just did it yourself. I suppose it must be something to do with the vanishing part of the spell.'

'Ahh. I see.' Another brief pause. 'Professor, how was I supposed to have done it?'

'You weren't. Dealing with large differences in size is something we don't cover until NEWT level, I suspect Marchbanks was just trying to test you by asking you to transfigure the kettle. Probably wanted to see how well you'd do. But to answer the question you didn't ask, I'd advise you to look up something called morphic resonance field theory. It's a bit beyond NEWT level, but if you ahve any questions, I'd be happy to go over it with you sometime.'

'Thank you, Professor.'

'You're welcome, Draco. Is there anything else you want?'

'No, I think that's it.'

'Then you should probably be running along to the common room. Even if you are a prefect, you don't want to be caught out of bed too late, do you?'

'No, Professor. Good night.'

'Goodnight.'

That night Draco jotted down the name of the theory and promised himself that he'd look it up after the end of exams. Perhaps he could read it in the dressing room after he was out when Gryffindor were playing cricket. It would give him something to do, at any rate. Or so he reckoned.

The exams had gone smoothly for the most part and as their end approached Draco felt relaxed. HE felt he'd done well enough. Not necessarily perfectly, but well enough. Even Potions and Defence had gone well and all that was now left was the least popular of all subjects; History of Magic. Draco had never lost his enthusiasm for the subject and was the only person looking forward to the exam. Even Hermione hadn't been as able to stay awake listening to and taking notes on all of Binn's stories. He found them fascinating, and whilst other boys read books on quidditch techniques and stories where handsome princes killed dragons, kidnapped princesses and stole kingdoms for their own, he read histories. Muggle histories, Wizard histories, goblin histories – over the years Draco had devoured them all greedily. Now, at long last, he was to reap the rewards. The exam went smoothly. Halfway through there was some sort of disturbance further back, but Draco didn't turn around. He just carried on writing the paper. Half an hour before the end of the paper he had finished. He checked the paper over twice and finished for good, putting down his pen and stretching slightly. Now it was time to wait.

Before long the time was up and the papers were collected in. When instructed he left the hall and searched for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry wasn't there, but the others were.

'How'd it go?'

'Fine. For us.'

'What do you mean for us?'

'Harry didn't survive?'

'What? The exam killed him?'

'Don't be silly, he was taken ill in the middle. He got carried away, so it must have been serious.'

'Yeah, but Harry can survive anything.'

'Mhh. Come on, let's go and find him, he's probably in the hospital wing.'

'Yeah, let's go.'

Harry was in the hospital wing, as white as the sheets in which he was lying in between. He did however, perk up mightily at seeing them.

'Guys.' He nodded at them, 'How did it go?'

'Not too bad. How are you?'

'Yeah. Fine. What happened?' Hermione asked.

'I had another vision.'

'The door?'

'The door. I went through it this time. He was in there, with Sirius. He was torturing Sirius. WE've got to help him.'

'How are we supposed to do that?'

'Gather the army.' Ron suggested.

'Ask for help from someone.' Hermione put forward.

'Well, we ought to see what's going on, we should try and contact the' she cut of suddenly and looked about. No-one was near, only the distant rumblings of Madame Pomfrey suggested that anyone was anywhere nearby.

'Go on.' Harry prompted.

'The Order. We can firecall their headquarters. Someone's bound to be there.'

'Yeah, but remember Umbridge said that she was going to monitor all means of communication in and out of the castle, or had that slipped your mind?'

'Not entirely. All we need is a distraction. Fred and George left a bit of stuff behind when they left. We get some of the DA together. Half of us cause a distraction whilst the rest of us go to Umbridge's office and use her fireplace to make the call. I bet that's not monitored.'

'Good thinking, Hermione. I'll leave it to you to gather the rest of us, Pomfrey will probably let me go soon, she thinks I've had a fit of nerves from the exams. Meet you in the room of requirement?'

'See you there. Don't be long.'


	37. Chapter 37

A couple of minutes later, Draco found himself waiting inside the room of requirement with Ron and Hermione. Who was going to turn up, he wondered. Surprisingly, before long they had found out. Those who turned up must have been those who missed the DA meetings the most, sine otherwise they wouldn't have checked when Hermione sent out a call to a meeting, but there were still a good few of them. Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom were the first to turn up. The next person to arrive was Harry. No-one else, it seemed had heard the call or was willing to respond.

'Are we having another meeting, Harry?' Neville asked.

'Not quite. WE need to get into Umbridge's office. Do you three and Draco want to cause a distraction so Ron, Hermione and I can sneak in and use her fireplace. It's important.'

'Alright. I'm in.' Neville said, amidst a chorus of nods.

'Draco. You take the guys and go and organise something, preferably in the charms corridor- Flitwick won't care if he catches you. We'll hide near Umbridge's office and when she's gone we'll make our move.'

'On it.' Draco said, gesturing the others to one side.

'Right, what have we got?'

'Fred and George left us a couple of skiving snackboxes and some fireworks'

'Ok. Anything else?'

'I can get some stinksap out of my Mimbulus Mimbletonia, if that'd be any use.'

'Yes, I think we can use that. Maybe put it inside the fireworks. But we're going to need something big, something to trap, sorry, encourage Umbridge to come over. We can use a trip wire spell to set off the fireworks once we've got her there, I expect, but we're going to want to ensure that she actually comes down. Any ideas?'

'Those permanent fireworks of Fred and George's did quite a good job of attracting her.'

'I suppose so. If we use that though, she'll instantly know it's us.'

'True.'

'You said we were going to do this in the charm's corridor, right?'

'Right.'

'So why don't we just enlarge the remains of the portable swamp?'

'Yeah, that'd work. And anyone could have done that. We'll have to do something else to it first though, otherwise Umbridge will just tell Flitwick to do it and we'll never get her to leave the office.'

'Yeah. We could always charm it or something so it doesn't go like it did last time.'

'Or we could do it so that whenever someone casts a spell on it they get hexed.' Ginny said with glee.

'I'm glad you're on my side.' Draco said, 'I'd hate to get in your bad books. Got anything particular in mind?'

'Oh yes. Leave it to me. You guys set the rest up, I'll curse the swamp.'

'Come on then, let's be off.'

As per the plan, after setting up the distraction, the four of them headed down to the great hall. It would only be a matter of time until their mission would be successful. Harry and the others would meet them in the hall when it was done.

'Guys.' Harry said darkly.

'What is it Harry?'

'The order doesn't know where he is. We're going to have to go and get him ourselves.'

'Get who?' A menacing voice said behind them. They turned around with a start. It was Umbridge.

'A friend.'

'Don't lie. I know you were in my office using the floo. You were trying to contact Dumbledore weren't you. Come. My office. Immediately.'

They were in for it now. Led to the office by a triumphant Umbridge they felt that anything might happen in the next half hour. It did.

As things turned out, Umbridge was determined that they knew the locations of Dumbledore, the well-known fugitive who, she claimed, had formerly been Headmaster. They refused to make any comment. Umbridge duly summoned Snape, demanding he yield further supplies of veritaserum, the truth-telling potion. He refused, on the grounds that she had used them all up and the batch he was currently brewing wasn't finished yet. Suddenly Draco felt like a bit of a wally. Snape was a member of the order, and so was McGonagall. They would've had methods of contacting the order without resulting to Umbridge's fire. Why hadn't they just asked them? At any rate, it wouldn't ahve made much difference- it might have saved this confrontation with Umbridge, but the Order didn't believe that Sirius was missing as he hadn't sent a distress signal or whatever excuse they had come up with this time. Instead they were here with Umbridge interrogating Harry. Brilliant. One word made Draco's ears prick and distracted him from his train of thought.

'...cruciatus ought to loosen your tongue.'

What had she said? The cruciatus?

'Oh Harry, tell her Harry. Well, if you won't I will.' Hermione burst forth, 'He's in the forest. Hiding. That's how he's been keeping in contact with us.'

'He's been in contact with you?' Umbridge asked with a greedy and malevolent glint in her piggy eyes.

'Yes. That's how he's been organising everything.'

'Through _you_?' Umbridge sneered disdainfully.

'Yes. What better way – anyone older would be suspected.'

'True. –Show me where he is.' Said Umbridge pointing her wand at them. If only they'd still got theirs. Umbridge gestured for Hermione to lead her to Dumbledore. When Hermione and Harry had gone through the door, she herself went through after them. Their wands were stowed in her pocket, so she must have imagined herself to be safe. As soon as her back was turned, Draco leapt into action. He landed on Umbridge's back sending her flying down onto the floor. Whilst he lay on top of her, the others searched her pockets for their wands. Hermione was the first to find hers and she cast a full body bind on Umbridge.

'So that's what it looks like.' Neville said. 'Last time I saw you do that'

'Yes, we all remember, Neville.' Hermione uttered sharply.

'What do we do now?' Ginny asked, 'We've just attacked her.' She k=jerked her thumb over her shoulder to where Umbridge was lying.

'Well, I suppose the first thing is to sick her out of the way, back in her office or something. Then.' Harry paused, possibly for effect. 'To the ministry.'

'What. So the plan is go to the ministry. Rescue your godfather, who possibly isn't even there, from the grips of the world's most evil dark wizard ever and then escape, coming back to school in time for lights out?'

'Do you know, that was pretty much it. Lucky lights out is later this year, isn't it?' Harry said sardonically. 'The real plan is this. Head to London, sneak about the Ministry until we find Sirius. Create a distraction, rescue him and then run away home, coming back to school as and when we can.'

'Great, but how are we getting there?'

'Easy. We'll fly.'

'But we don't all have brooms.' Hermione pointed out.

'Well, Draco and I have the most passenger friendly brooms, at least according to What?Broom. So I suppose we can take you and Neville. The Firebolt's notionally got more capacity, so Neville, you're with me. Hermione, with Draco. Everyone else, get your brooms and meet you in the entrance hall in half an hour. We'll need wand s and warm clothes, this is going to be a long journey.

It was indeed. The Gadwall was fast enough ordinarily, but he had to go slow for this journey, after all it was a long journey. A long journey with Hermione clinging tightly to his chest. He liked the feeling of her hands there, as her arms wrapped round him in sheer terror, but he couldn't concentrate on it for long, as much as he'd like to. He had to keep the broom flying fast and true, and with two people on board that was no easy task. Harry was apparently having a much easier time of it, at least when there wasn't any wind, presumably since he was so much more practised, and possibly because his passenger had developed at least enough broom sense to lean the right way in corners. Occasionally Draco took long, sweeping diversions to stay away from the squalls and showers that lay in his path. Every so often he would lose sight of the others, but he carried on flying south, south, ever south and occasionally a little bit east, as he closed in on London. Whilst flying over Cambridgeshire, he noted an unusual looking cloud. Or was it? No! It was the others! Tilting left he flew towards them. Hermione screamed in yet another repetition of what had been the soundtrack of the flight.

'Oh. Hell o there Draco. We were wondering where you two had gotten to.'

'Took a slight diversion to avoid the rain. Didn't want to end up soaked to the skin.' Draco said, suppressing the urge to add unlike you to the end of the sentence.

'You alright, Hermione? Had a nice romantic journey?'

'I'd rather not speak about it.'

'Why what's wrong.'

'Well, put it this way. If this flight's been anything to go by, I think Hermione gets seasick.'

'Ahh. Say no more. Nice to have you two back though.'

'Thanks. I've been thinking.'

'Makes a change.'

'Shut up Ron. I've been thinking, the last time you came this way you made the papers. Shouldn't we do something to make ourselves less noticeable, or something?'

'We could try disillusionment charms, if you remember them.'

'No problem. Bit fiddly, but no problem. We'd better land first. I think we're getting close, so we'd better set to it nowish.'

'Alright. Everyone down.' Harry waved his arms to marshal the flight down towards the ground, where they landed, rendered themselves less visible and took off again. Son they were in l

London, outside of the main offices of the Ministry itself.

'How do we get in?'

'Oh, simple, we just have to get in that Red phone box there.' Ron said.

'What, that one? All of us?'

'Yeah, well, as many of us as'll fit. That's where Mum took us when we went ot visit Dad a couple of years back. Do you remember Ginny?'

'Oh. You mean when we surprised him at work on his birthday?'

'Yeah. That's the one.'

'That was fun that was.'

'Yeah.'

'Hello.' Harry waved a hand between the eyes of the two siblings. 'Anyone at home. Aren't we supposed to be strolling into the ministry, not down memory lane?'

'Sorry, Harry.'

'Sorry mate.'

'Well, how do we use it?'

'Don't worry, it's simple.' Ron said, and sure enough it was. Before long they were prowling the night-abandoned corridors of the ministry, heading towards the vast and enigmatic Department of Mysteries. They ran through its empty rooms, feeling as though they were lost in the most curious maze they had ever been in. There were rooms with racks of time-turners and rooms with brains floating in tanks. There were rooms they couldn't get into, no matter how hard they tried, but eventually, they came to a room where Harry declared they were in the right place. Sirius wasn't there.

'Bugger.'

'You said it mate, what do you thinks happened?' Ron asked.

'No idea, you got any clue Draco?'

'One. I think we've walked headlong into a trap.'

'Bugger.' Harry said again.

'Harry.' Neville called. 'One of these balls ahs got your name on it?'

'Has it really? Bring it over.'

'I'd rather not. I've got this .Feeling that it's only meant to be touched by you.'

'Alright. I'm coming.'

Harry sidled over to Neville and picked up the ball. Nothing happened, for a moment anyway. Then a deep, rumbling voice that Draco felt he recognised boomed out across the hall of strange ball thingies.

'Hand it over Potter.'

'Who said that.'

'I did.' Said a shadow, which emerged to become a fully formed Death Eater.

'What do you want?'

'That glass ball.'

'Don't give it to him, Harry.'

'Run!'

The seven friends split up and ran throughout the place, trying to get away, but one by one they were captured by the Death Eaters, until only Harry and Draco had not been captured. They stood, back to back, firing off curses at the encroaching Death Eaters.

'Enough.' Their leader said. The tall man advanced on them. 'The dark Lord will not want this destroyed. Hand it over, and we'll let your friends go.' He said.

'If you can catch it.' Harry said, throwing it straight down onto the ground. It smashed in to thousands of tiny pieces. The man ripped of his mask and was revealed to be

'Father.' Draco uttered. So it was true. His Father was a Death Eater.

'I am no father of yours.' He spat back, whipping out his wand. Draco did likewise, and whilst Harry ran, Draco did the most foolish thing he had ever done in his life, he started to duel the older man. Whilst the remaining Death Eaters who didn't have an hostage to subdue ran after Harry, Draco began to fight his father. They cast spells at each other, each aiming to maim repeatedly, Draco found himself thrusting with his wand and parrying the spells that his father sent back at him.

'What's this? Can't even beat an unqualified wizard? You really need some more practise Lucius.'

The only reply to that was a further barrage of curses, each nastier than the last. Draco didn't recognise most of them, but one he managed to identify as a knee-breaker curse. He parried it neatly with a flick of his wand and a loud expletive and carried on.

By now the red mist of anger had descended across Draco's vision and he cared no longer about the man who had once claimed to be his father. He sent spell after spell at the other man, spell after spell pounded away at the other man's defences. Draco had the upper hand and he carried on blasting away. Spell after spell ranging from simple stunning spells to vicious bone breaking hexes. The shield protecting the other man shimmered under the radiant onslaught of Draco's fierce attack. It collapsed under a spell and then suddenly, Draco found himself under attack. The old man had decided that attack was the best form of defence and had gone on the offensive with such force that Draco barely had time to brace himself for the attack. Some quick wandwork saw him protected –just – against the blows of his father, but not for long. Draco had been right when he goaded his father- a Death Eater should be able to beat an underage wizard, and Draco began to realise, he was no exception to this. He had given his best but it didn't look like it was going to be good enough. With both hands on his wand, he focussed on drawing up a shield charm to protect himself. Every sinew strained with the effort but there was nothing more he could do. It had to hold. It had to.

'Father..'

'If you ever want me to call you Son, don't beg for mercy, boy. It's a sign of weakness.'

The shield gave way with a deafening boom which sent Draco flying backwards. His opponent closed in on him wand raised to cast the killing blow. Then suddenly, just as Draco was blacking out, the other man went flying backwards. He woke up minutes later, surrounded by friends and acquaintances.

'What happened?' He asked.

'The Order arrived. They fought them off. All of them. We're safe now.'

'Where's Harry?'

An awful silence fell. They all of them realised that Harry was nowhere to be seen.

'Last I saw of him, he was running of that way.' Draco said helpfully, pulling himself up to a sitting position.

'Upsy-daisy.' Said a witch Draco didn't recognise 'The name's Tonks, just Tonks. Call me anything else and I'll rearrange your face.'

'Thanks.' Said Draco, surprised at the pleasant way this woman had threatened him. 'My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. Call me what you like, within reason.'

'Oh nice to meet you, cos.'

'Come again?'

'I'm your cousin. Our mothers are sisters. That makes us cousins.'

'What another one?' Draco half-mumbled.

'What do you mean?'

'Nothing much, just, don't you think we ought to go after Harry.' Fine. But only once you've explained.' She said, looking concerned.

'It's just you're not the first family member I've met who I didn't know existed.'

'I'm Andromeda's daughter, if that's any help.'

'A little. At any rate, I figured you weren't Bellatrix's'

'Oh yes?'

'Well, that was easy, you don't look that much alike, and you're not trying to kill me.'

'Good point.' Now I'm going to look out for Sirius and Harry. You stay here.'

She turned her back and ran off in the direction that all the other aurors had just run off in, leaving six of them standing there, in the middle of the deserted hall.

'I don't like it here much.'

'Me neither.'

They looked around. Neville was the first to speak.

'Do you think we ought to go after the Order? After all, it'll be safer than staying here. Anything might happen.'

'Yeah, let's go. No rush though.'

'Right. No rush.'

They walked briskly after Tonks, through a couple of rooms to a place they had never been before. It was a room as ordinary as any other, except dominating one wall was a massive veiled curtain, which looked as solid as the other four walls did. Possibly more solid, given the huge chunks missing from the walls. Over in one corner stood Harry, looking drained. They ran over to him.

'Harry. How are you? Are you hurt?'

'No. I'm fine. Sirius came to save me, just as Lestrange was getting the upper hand. Then five minutes later Moody arrived. They've got her contained, even if she is still. Duck!' A stray spell sailed over their heads. 'Even if she is still fighting back. Draco turned round to look. As he looked he saw Lestrange raise her wand with a manic gleam in her eye. She was looking straight at Sirius. He would never know why he did it, but Draco summoned a huge wall right in between them. Seconds later it exploded into brickdust as the spell Draco had blocked collided with it in a flash of green. Sirius exploded with anger, just as Draco had not long ago. Curse after curse flew at Bellatrix and even though Moody had stopped to watch she was now inundated with powerful spells. There were so many spells that she didn't spot one of the cutting curses that Sirius had thrown at her until it was too late. It hit her and she fell in a growing pool of thick red blood.

Moody stepped over to Sirius and put a hand on his shoulder.

'That'll do Sirius. You can stop it now. She's not going to hurt anyone now.'

A loud noise made them all start. They turned round and there stood Dumbledore.

'I say we have been busy, haven't we?' He said.

'Albus. Glad you could join us.' The gruff voice of Alastor Moody spoke.

'Glad to be here Alastor. I am glad that everyone is alright.'

'Not quite everyone.' Sirius said glumly.

'What's wrong Sirius? Who's not alright?'

'It's Cousin Bella. I've killed her.'

'Bella. Bella.' Dumbledore whispered so quietly that the others could barely see his mouth moving. 'Oh , you mean your cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, I presume, what happened?'

'Dumbledore glanced over at the pool of blood that was even now growing about the body. The witch looked very small and old in her death.

'I see. Don't worry about it Sirius, she was a tortured soul. She'll be happier now she's been released.' Dumbledore comforted. Sirius didn't seem much happier about all this, but Dumbledore ignored this and went about organising everyone else. Soon the seven friends, the Order of the Phoenix and above all Dumbledore were walking out of the Department of Mysteries and out into the rest of the ministry, a column of Death Eaters at wandpoint.

The remains of Bellatrix Lestrange were being carried in front of them by Tonks, who was levitating her aunt's remains. They walked through long corridors and up steep slopes until eventually they emerged in the foyer of the Ministry. Over there was the massive golden fountain they had seen on their way in. Over there was the desk, where, presumably, a receptionist sat during the day. It was nice to be getting back to wherever it was they were supposed to be going. Draco didn't care where that might be, just so long as it was far away from here. School would do. As would home. Dumbledore himself stopped in the middle of the foyer and waited. Bellatrix' body was laid on the ground and made to look peaceable. Just as everyone was wondering the reason for the delay, Dumbledore explained it all.

'Now we wait for the Minister. Bartemius will be along soon, I have no doubt, and with a crack team of aurors too I suspect.'

'You can only hope you'll live that long, old man.' A shrill, cold voice taunted from behind them. Everyone turned round to see who had spoken. Everyone that is, apart from Dumbledore, who had whipped out his wand and was preparing to duel. He knew who that voice belonged to.

'Ah. Tom. So glad you could join us.' Dumbledore said, patently lying through his teeth in an impressive facade of mock politeness.

'The pleasure is all mine. So much of your precious little Order. So many people. And children too. We'll take a great delight in killing you all. Bella. Take this spare wand.' Voldemort lobbed a wand that was not his own in the direction of Bellatrix. Naturally, she did nothing about it and the wand clattered idly next to her body.

'Why doesn't she respond?' Voldemort asked Dumbledore.

'She's dead, Tom.'

'Dead?'

'Dead.'

The loss of his finest lieutenant seemed to annoy Voldemort, who immediately started to duel Dumbledore, whilst taking pot shots at everyone else who happened to be there. It was a spectacular fight, far more impressive than the one Draco himself had been involved in not long ago. Instead of shielding, they sent spells to intercept the other's in flight. Bolts of coloured light met between them and exploded in burst of lightning. Occasionally Dumbledore would transfigure a statue or a desk into life, in order to protect someone other than himself, which happened whenever Voldemort's attention leapt to someone else. Several times Draco felt that the end was come, when something would nobly sacrifice itself, its wooden structure bursting into flames before his eyes. The members of the Order tried to secure the Death Eaters, and not entirely in vain either, but everyone knew that they lived or died with Dumbledore that night.

Still the duel continued Dumbledore brought up the water from the fountain in an attempt to imprison Voldemort, but neither of them was a Merlin, and a quick freezing charm and one explosion later and everyone else found themselves desperately trying to protect themselves from vicious shards of ice. Then the fire came. Voldemort and Dumbledore seemed both to love its destructive power and soon a vast conflagration was rocketing between them as each rested the control of it from the other. The tiles of the floor cracked under its heat and everyone felt themselves cooking. Shuffling away from the fire Draco found himself fearful for the first time in his life. He looked into that fire and therein saw the full, destructive, potential of magic. So this was what a wizard's duel was supposed to be like. But as Draco thought that the tempo of the duel did what Draco had assumed to be impossible –it increased.

Spells flew in every direction. Dumbledore was nearly hit. Then Voldemort. Each ducked one way and then recovered. There was no telling what would happen next, none at all. The way of the battle constantly switched between its two proponents, Dumbledore winning one minute, Riddle the next. The hand of each wizard was moving so rapidly that it almost appeared a blur to Draco as each cast spells rapidly to try and get one past the other, like Sirius had gotten that cutting spell past Bellatrix. Whilst the previous fights of the day had been fights to injure the other, this was different. This was a fight to the death. Voldemort was surely gaining the upper hand, as the younger man must. A hundred years of fatigue would surely weigh down against Dumbledore. The fight continued and a rogue spell flew over Draco's head and earthed itself in the wall behind him. Now Dumbledore was going on the attack. Spell after spell flew at Voldemort, some curving round so as to take him from odd angles, some just flying straight at him. The panoply of colours visible might have been beautiful, had they not been so deadly. Dumbledore was showing his true colours now. He may not have the stamina of the younger man, but he did have experience, and the other man wasn't that much younger. Not really. Dumbledore was winning, and by a healthy margin too, he had to be , the way that Riddle had stopped attacking, and was only defending spells that were certain to hit. Surely that was what was going on. It had to be. Suddenly Voldemort vanished and time seemed to slow. Harry, who had been quiet - like everyone else in the room, at the show that was being put on - started to moan. Then mere seconds later, Voldemort reappeared, looking visibly shocked. He stood there silently, preparing for another barrage from Dumbledore. A barrage that never came. What did come however was Bartemius Crouch, who had quickly appraised the looked fit to explode. What the hell was going on? Dumbledore was here. But so was. Crouch raised his wand to attack and Voldemort disapparated, leaving his fallen servants behind to face the justice of the Ministry.

'So he is back.' Crouch muttered.

'Alas so, Bartemius. So, with that being the case, I take it you can see that the Ministry withdraws its opposition to me.'

'Well, it'll take some time, but I think I can promise that, yes. At any rate, I think the place for you is Hogwarts. Take the kids with you, Albus, we don't want them here, not yet, anyway.' He smirked at his own joke. It seemed to Draco that Crouch had changed since he had come to power. He didn't have long to reflect on this however, as he was whisked back to Hogwarts instantly by the elderly headmaster.


	38. Chapter 38

Having been dismissed by the Headmaster, Draco, Ron and Hermione headed back to the common room. It was a long time until Harry rejoined them and a longer time still until the end of term came round. Gryffindor's humiliating implosion in the inter-house cricket, with only Draco managing to bat into double figures, left the house completely out of the running for the House Cup, which went to Ravenclaw. The journey home was uneventful, save for Ron nearly turning Dean Thomas into a hamster when he heard that his roommate was dating his younger sister. Following a sad and heartfelt farewell, Draco was whisked back home by Noctifer.

'You going to be about much this summer?' Draco asked.

'No, 'Fraid not, kiddo, I'm working flat out.'

'What, you still haven't finished building the headquarters?'

'Nah. Finished that months ago, now everyone wants their security upgrading and loads of people are forking out to have me do it. That's one good thing about Voldemort being back- business is booming.'

'I suppose so. Anything I can do?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, it looks like it's going to be another long, dull summer for me hanging about here. What do you want me to do?'

'Seeing as you're not allowed to use magic, there's nothing you can do Draco, sorry and all that. You could invite some friends round if you wanted. I won't be able to provide transport, but I'm sure you can work that out. After all, if you can get from Hogwarts to London...' Noctifer trailed off.

'How do you know about that?'

'Professor Dumbledore sent me a letter, telling me about how you and your friends escaped from school, flew to London, fought a load of Death Eaters, including, I dare say, certain members of the family.' Noctifer stopped and stared pointfully at Draco. 'and somehow managed to escape alive, even when the Dark Lord turned up. I must say, it was a very silly thing to do.'

'Well, Harry said Sirius was trapped there. _Someone _had to rescue him.'

'I suppose so. Well, what you do is very much up to you. You may not be of age, but you're very much capable of choosing how you live your life. Do try not to get yourself killed though, I haven't got time to organise a funeral.' Noctifer finished, with a wry glint in his eye.

And that was the last proper conversation Draco had had with Noctifer that summer, certainly, they'd grunted at each other in the morning in passing, before Nocitfer had gone to work, but he wasn't about much. Letters inviting Ron and Harry up had been replied to by responses saying that they weren't allowed but Hermione had been able to come up to spend a week. They had spent much of the time walking in the garden or in the kitchen, baking cakes and making sumptuous dinners. On Hermione's last day there, they went out to a restaurant in town for a final meal. The restaurant was lovely, if a bit dark and the atmosphere was delightful, with the quiet hum of conversation bringing the place to life. The food was glorious too, with Draco having a steak in a peppercorn sauce and Hermione having monkfish in tomato sauce. The next day, however, Hermione left and she left Draco feeling slightly deflated. He had enjoyed the time he had spent with her in the last week and was sorry to see her go, even if it was only about a fortnight until they'd meet again at Hogwarts, and maybe less if they bumped into each other in Diagon Alley. And perhaps Harry and Ron might be there too.

While in Madame Malkin's he did indeed see them.

'Hi Draco.'

Draco turned round.

'Oh. Hi guys. Had a good summer?'

'Not bad thanks.'

'Do you want to end up full of pin-holes? Stop moving.' Madame Malkin said.

'Sorry.' Draco quickly apologised.

'Don't apologise. Just stop moving.'

'Right.' Said Draco, before turning his attention, if not his body, to his friends.

'So, did you do anything nice?'

'Well, I saw Dumbledore over the summer.'

'Really, Dumbledore? Is this to do with you being the _Chosen One_?' Draco mocked in a friendly way.

'Shh. I don't want everyone knowing.' Harry replied snarkily.

'So what were you really doing?'

'Dumbledore took me to see someone. He was recruiting some old teacher to come back to Hogwarts.'

'Oh yes?'

'Yes. Some old geezer named Slughorn.'

'Slughorn. Name sounds familiar- of course! Father was always banging on about him. He taught potions.'

'Potions- but that jobs already filled. Snape's got it.' Ron interjected.

'Ron, do you remember what your brother Percy said to me on my first day at Hogwarts. What he said about Snape, that is?'

'Not really.'

'Percy said that he's always wanted the Dark Arts job. Perhaps, at last, he's got it.'

'There's a scary thought.'

'Not half. Is Hermione with you?'

'Yeah, she is, says her robes fit, though, so she's helping Mum buy our books for the year.' Ron explained.

'Everyone in the family alright, Ron.'

'Yeah. Everything's going really well, thanks. You know Percy was working for Crouch before he became Minister?'

'Yeah.'

'Well, he's just become the principal private secretary to the Minister.'

'Really. Way to go, Percy.'

'Well you're done, Mr Malfoy.'

'Oh. Thank you.' Draco summarily paid Malkin and left to go and get the books, agreeing to meet up with Harry and Ron later in the Leaky Cauldron for a quick half before heading home. He bumped into Hermione as she was leaving Flourish and Blotts and relayed the message about the meeting in the Cauldron. Getting books required some time. Following the arrival of a very satisfactory set of OWLs, Draco had decided to take Charms, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Defence against the Dark Arts and Potions at NEWT level. Most of the books were quite easy to find, but it took Draco and the shop assistant a long time to find the textbooks for NEWT level History of Magic. Given how dusty the book was, it seemed that it had come from a corner of the shop that no-one had visited in a long time.

In the pub, Draco brought a round and went to sit with Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

'There we go. Drink up everyone. Everyone alright?'

'Fine thanks. Had a good summer yourself?'

'A bit dull to be honest. Uncle Noctifer was out of the house most of the time, so I spent a lot of time entertaining myself. Not like that.' Draco suddenly changed tack, noting the look in Ron's eye. 'Anyway, apart from the week with Hermione I was pretty much by myself. Spent a lot of it trying to learn how to do non-verbal spells.'

'Why?' Hermione asked.

'Oh, Noctifer says that at NEWT level they expect you to be able to do nearly everything that way. It's a bit tricky, but I think I'm nearly there.'

'Really? How come the ministry didn't come knocking down your door demanding you stop doing underage magic?'

'Easy. They didn't know.'

'But the trace..' Harry left his question unasked, but Draco answered it anyway.

'The trace! Huh! No, that's simply not an issue if you know how to get around it. You just have to have the right defensive spells up around the house and bingo! You can do whatever you want, no matter how old you are.'

'Never knew that.'

Ron said.

'Well, no-one's supposed to know, are they, or else they'd get a qualified wizard to set up the spells and they'd carry on as if the law hadn't been enacted.'

'You speak as if that's a bad thing.'

'It is, imagine a first year got hold of his mother's book on household transfigurations- way to advanced for them- and tried to give them a go. They'd end up turning themself into a copper kettle or something and no-one would know. No, the law is definitely a good thing, even if it is a bit frustrating.'

'How'd you know about it anyway?'

'Oh, well, my grandfather was the permanent secretary to the Minister for Magic, he told my Uncle when he was young, my uncle told me.' By the time Draco had finished his tale he was quite thirsty, so he took a long, cool sip from the warming butterbeer.

'That's better. Got your exam results yet?'

'Yeah, I'm really pleased with them. I got everything I needed.' Said Ron.

'Yeah, same here. Except I screwed up potions. Got an EE when I needed an O to continue. Maybe this Slughorn chap will accept me though.'

'You never know.' Draco agreed. Privately he felt sorry for his friend, who would now probably never make it as an auror, but he didn't want to deny Harry the hope. Particularly when he didn't know otherwise himself.

'And you Hermione?'

'I got an EE in Defence.'

'And?'

'Everything else was fine, thanks.'

'O's all round, except for defence? Nice one Hermione.' Draco said.

'What about you, Draco?'

'Straight O's. Though, looking at the score, I only just scraped it in potions and astronomy.'

'Bloody hell, Draco. I thought Hermione had done well, now it turns out that you're really the brains of the group.'

'Nah. I'm just good at passing exams. As you said at the DA last year, there's a big difference between school and real life.'

'S'pose so.' Said Harry.

'How do you feel about your Owls, then, Ginny? Worried?' Said Draco, noticing that she seemed a little isolated from the conversation.

'Yeah, I don't think they'll be too bad. But to be honest they're still a whole year off, seems like ages, really.'

'True, but that time'll just fly by, you mark my words.' Said Draco. They finished their drinks and Mr Weasley came over to take the others back to the Burrow.

'See you on the train, guys.' Said Draco, and with a final wave goodbye, he was alone. The pub didn't seem to be doing its usual roaring trade, in fact, now he looked around, he could see he was the only person there, apart from old Tom, the landlord.

'Business been slow lately, Tom?' Draco asked, politely.

'A little, young Master Malfoy. Its all the panic on the street that's been doing it. No-one wants to go shopping if they don't feel safe, and if they have to go shopping, they don't have time for a quick drink, either. I must say, it's been very quiet round here of late.'

'Yeah, I'm sad to say, it looks like it too. Can I get another butterbeer, Tom?'

'No problem.'

'Thanks. Have one yourself.' Said Draco, sliding some coins across the counter.

'Thank you.' Tom said, getting out a second glass. Draco sat down at the bar and talked with Tom for a good half hour, until a foreign-sounding wizard came in and ordered a drink. Having finished his drink, Draco got up, left and flooed back home with his purchases. Another day gone. Not long now until he was back at school.


	39. Chapter 39

The train ride was a quiet one, at least, as far as any journey can be quiet on a train full of hundreds of excited schoolchildren being pulled by a mighty, noisy, steam engine. Halfway through, Harry was invited to a meeting with this new professor, Slughorn, about whom Draco had heard so much. In fact, Draco was a bit disappointed not to have been invited, but there was nothing that could be done about that. It wouldn't be polite to gatecrash, after all. With Ron being equally reticent, Draco squirmed about on the seat for a bit to make it comfier and opened his paper. The day's _Prophet_ was filled by a special article reviewing Barty Crouch, who had announced his retirement a few days earlier. Turning the page he carried on reading

_So far Crouch's ministerial career was without incident, but following Harry Potter's fight with Death Eaters inside the Ministry it was revealed that the Permanent Secretary to the minister, Mr Lucius Malfoy, was in fact a Death Eater. Professing ignorance of the secret activities of the most senior civil servant, Crouch swiftly replaced Malfoy and gave personal evidence against him during his trial, which resulted in Mr Malfoy being sent to Azkaban. Even this seeming disaster, which many ministers would have turned into a public relations calamity, was used by Crouch as a publicity triumph; his hard-line against Death Eaters, even one who was a close colleague, was one of the most welcome parts of his ministership. _

Great. Now even the Daily Prophet was rejoicing that his father was gone. Now everyone would think that _he_ was a Death Eater. Years of hostility lay before him. Hadn't his father screwed up his life enough? Why had the old idiot had to get himself caught? Well, he should have seen it coming, it was just about the worse thing the old bastard could have done. Let him rot in Azkaban, he wasn't going to do anything about it, no. Nothing at all.

Draco brooded all the way to Hogwarts, where he and Ron were met by Harry, fresh from his meeting with Slughorn, and Hermione, who had been busy patrolling the train for troublemakers. Annoyed that he hadn't been invited to a party for high-flyers by Slughorn, Draco continued brooding all the way through the sorting and the feast. His heart picked up slightly when he looked away from the high table straight into the smile of Hermione. A brief smile flickered across his lips and lingered there for a while. Somehow cheered, he felt happy all the way through dessert, indeed, he felt happy right up to the end of the feast, when he had to escort a crowd of blithering first years up to the dorms. This whole prefect lark wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

The next morning saw the dishing out of timetables. It was a nightmare, even with the frees that had been added in to the mix. Unfortunately, none of the free periods were first thing in the morning. This morning for example, started off with double potions, with this Slughorn chap. Draco turned up reluctantly to what turned out to be the best lesson of the day.

Slughorn was nothing like Snape. He welcomed them warmly into the classroom and started cheerfully.

'Well. I'm your new Potions master, Professor Slughorn, today we'll be giving a bit of a brief recap and then we'll be moving on. I give you fair warning that most of what you have attempted before will seem like child's play compared to NEWT levels.'

At that point, Harry and Ron came through the door.

'Oh. Hello there Harry, m'boy. Come on in.'

'Sorry I'm late, Sir. I didn't know that I was taking potions until this morning- I haven't got any things either.'

'I see. Well, take what you need from the stores, there's some spare books over there somewhere. Take what you need until you can write to Flourish and Blotts.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

'The same goes for your friend.'

Ron made the appropriate noises and they settled down to listen to Slughorn's continued commentary.

'Here we have some potions. Can anyone identify them? Yes- You, Ms..?'

'Granger, Sir.'

'Ms Granger, very well. Would you care to start with this one?'

'Amortentia, isn't it, Sir? You can tell by the unique shimmer and the way the steam is rising in coils. It's said to smell different to each person who smells it, depending on what attracts them. I ,for example, smell ink and parchment and spearmint.' Hermione blushed and came to a stop.

'Very well done, Ms Granger. This must be the friend you told me about Harry. Brightest witch of your age, you said. I can see why. Well, who's for the next one?'

He pointed at a thick, gloopy, bubbling potion. Draco's hand raced Hermione's for the ceiling. Both of them had made some of this in their second year. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco thought he could see both Harry and Ron's hand twitch. Apparently they decided not to- perhaps they felt that since Hermione and he had brewed it successfully in their second year, they deserved to answer the question.

'You there, Mr...'

'Malfoy , Sir. It's polyjuice potion.'

'Yes, Mr Malfoy, it is. So, you're not in Slytherin then. Unusual. Take after your uncle, then.'

'Apparently so, Sir.'

'Yes. Well, there's one potion I haven't described to you. This one back here. You can see its golden colour and the way it's bouncing around like a demented wasp? That's unique to this particular potion. It's Felix Felicis.'

'Liquid Luck.' Draco mumbled under his breath. Despite his age, Slughorn heard every word.

'Exactly, Mr Malfoy – liquid luck! Now we've still got an hour left today, so we're going to do some brewing. Turn to your books and find the recipe for the draught of living death. Whoever makes the best one in the time we have left will claim a small vial of Felix as their prize- but beware! It's banned in all sport and exams internationally. Nonetheless I promise that when you take some it will make any ordinary day, truly extraordinary.'

They turned to their books and started to brew. Harry's old copy had some notes scribbled in the margin in a hand that somehow reminded Draco of one he'd seen before. That in itself wasn't particularly notable, but the advice that these notes contained certainly were. So-on, Harry, Ron and Draco were following the adjustments made in Harry's textbook, whilst Hermione, for some reason known only to herself, deemed it to be cheating and carried on with the printed instructions. By the end, both Draco and Harry had finished, whereas Hermione's was a mysterious shade of russet and showing no sign of lightening. In the end though, Harry's was the finer and Draco did not win the prize- although he may have won Slughorn's respect.

Something about Draco had impressed Slughorn- for the next time the venerable pedagogue summoned his favourites for tea, Draco was invited, replacing, Harry hinted, Marcus Belby. Hermione was also invited along and it was with a sense of eager anticipation that they hurried to Slughorn's office, long after the sun had set slowly in the clichéd west.

They arrived in the stone-walled office to find a large table set out in the middle, with plenty of tall, ornately carved wooden chairs arranged around it. Slughorn welcomed them in and they took their assigned place at the table. With so many new faces, the conversation was led by Slughorn, asking all of the new arrivals about their lives and the lives of their close family. Harry told them afterwards that at least half of the faces who had been invited to the tête-à-tête on the train hadn't been invited back- having been found out to be not quite up to scratch. Draco however was oblivious of this as the meeting progressed, as was Hermione and he was beginning to feel a bit nervous as he saw that some people were getting interviewed by Slughorn. Then it was his turn.

'So, Draco are you still playing cricket? I didn't get to see the last season.'

'Yup, I'm still playing. Lee made me vice-captain last year, and we did quite well. I'm not really looking forward to this year so much, though.'

'Oh?'

'Well, I'm the senior player and we've lost a lot of the team – Gryffindor aren't the force we once were.'

'I see. So, I hear that you're something of a transfiguration whizz.'

'I'm alright I suppose, Sir.'

'And modest too. Well, Ms Granger, I understand you're muggle born. What do your parents do?'

Glad that the grilling was over, Draco let out a silent sigh of relief. Soon the questioning was over and Slughorn announced that they would have a bite to eat. He waved his wand, and a small plate of smoked salmon appeared, accompanied by a slice of lemon. Slughorn told them all to tuck in and they did. The lemon juice cut through the greasiness of the fish beautifully and when Draco finished, he found himself wishing that it could have carried on forever.

This feeling soon disappeared, however, when the main course arrived on the table, soon after everyone had finished their starter. Fluffy roast potatoes accompanied crisp carrots and succulent green beans. The real highlight of the meal though, was in the centre of his plate, wrapped in pastry. Draco waited for a moment, and when Slughorn picked up his cutlery, Draco eagerly followed suit, keen to know what was contained within the pastry.

It was delicious, a large chunk of wonderfully tender beef, still slightly pink in the middle, with a creamed spinach and mushroom forming an exquisite layer between the beef and the pastry, which yielded to Draco's knife in gorgeous golden flakes. The meal was accompanied by a sumptuous elf-made red wine, which Slughorn asked them to keep secret, as he wasn't strictly allowed to give it to them- even if it would be a crime to have a meal as fine as this without a drink to match it.

The conversation slowed whilst they were eating but soon picked up again afterwards, this time into a more relaxed, casual conversation about all sorts of matters, even getting on to the topic of Umbridge – who was not only universally condemned by the group as the worse teacher who ever lived, but also put forward as a strong candidate for the most evil woman ever. Slughorn merely smiled at the naivety of the group and mentioned the word "Morgana". The topic of conversation swiftly changed.

Draco sat silently listening to the conversation swirling about him, hearing snippets here and there that interested him, his attention always flitting from person to person, appraising and evaluating each and every one in turn. From across the table his eyes met Slughorn's, and each realised the other was doing the same thing. Their eyes quickly moved on, examining the next person and the next. There was nothing like people watching to tell you who was who and what they thought- in casual conversation people tended to give everything away that they would keep guarded in a more formal setting. So that was why Slughorn held these meetings, so he could win the affection- or if not get the dirt on – those students he felt would be the movers and shakers of the next generation. The wily old bugger. Draco quietly wondered whether he had gotten his role on the Hogwarts' staff, and had continued his role as cricket commentator through a similar scheme- did he have something on Dumbledore? Or was this just a sideline to a man who could, for all Draco knew, be a genuinely talented brewer who deserved his teaching post? Who knew? Not Draco.

After an excellent sorbet, dessert arrived. It was unsurprisingly, considerably grander than any dish that Draco had previously had at Hogwarts. It was, at least technically, a trifle, with layers of sponge fingers, jelly, custard and cream all coming together to form a sumptuous pudding. Bowls appeared in front of them and Slughorn stuck a tablespoon into the trifle and encouraged people to serve themselves. As the perfectly smooth layer of cream was penetrated by person after person to reveal the thick golden custard underneath, Draco found himself impatient for his turn. It soon came, and Draco thoroughly enjoyed the feel of the spoon diving deep down into the trifle until it hit the bottom of the glass bowl it was in with a quiet chink. Then, with about as much finesse as a bludger, Draco heaved the delicious layers out and into his bowl, narrowly missing spilling it all over the table. That had been a close one. Oh well, by now he had everything under control and could pass the trifle on, after all, there wasn't anything anyone could've seen, was there? From across the table he caught Hermione's eye, which was twinkly with mirth. Bugger. Someone had seen and it had to be her who had, didn't it? Draco looked down and stayed silent, hoping to avoid the blush which he could feel already pounding through his cheeks.

Draco kept fairly quiet throughout the rest of the evening, not wanting to embarrass himself further and when the club dismissed, he found himself, to his surprise, one of the select few being asked to remain behind for a nightcap, well, a mug of hot chocolate. Harry and Hermione were there and together they formed the chosen three who had been asked to stay behind.

Slughorn turned the charm up a notch or two as he whipped up the cream to go on top of the four mugs of hot chocolate. When he had finished, he gestured to some comfortable looking armchairs that sat in the corner of the room.

'There's only three, I'm afraid, but I don't mind standing.'

Draco wondered whether Slughorn might have heard about his transfiguration OWL and decided that this was probably a test, to see whether it was true or not. Deciding it was worth passing, Draco whipped out his wand, concentrated and soon a plush armchair, that matched the rest except for the colour, completed the circle about the coffee table.

If Draco thought Slughorn had been trying to get to know them previously, this took things to a whole other level.

'So, Draco, forgive me if this is too personal, but how well do you get on with your father?'

'Him? Haven't seen the bastard in years, Sir. He disowned me for being sorted into Gryffindor and I've not looked back.'

'I see, I assume your relationship with your mother then...'

'Not much better. I haven't seen her since the day I first came to Hogwarts either, although I reckon that was more due to _him_ than _her_, if you catch my drift, but with her having gone on, so to speak, I'm never going to see her again.'

'I'm sorry for your loss. So your uncle's been looking after you?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Well, at least you've got someone.' Slughorn said abruptly, before moving on to talk to Hermione about the role of dentists in a modern muggle society. Draco left with Harry and Hermione after they had finished their hot chocolate half wondering what had just happened.


	40. Chapter 40

Draco slept well that night, a little too well if truth be told, since the next morning he woke up, looked at his watch and flew into a blind panic- he had overslept and had a mere seven minutes to get all the way downstairs to transfiguration- he'd never make it! Draco quickly threw his school robes over his pyjamas, threw his shoes and socks on and picked up his bag, thanking the small mercy that had led him to pack his bag the previous night. Draco ran through the door and pounded down the stairs, as fast as his legs could carry him, he jumped the last two and moved straight into a fast jog out through the portrait hole. Now the great race began, five minute to descend all the way to the ground floor and out through the courtyard into the transfiguration classroom. Draco used all the shortcuts he knew, neatly avoiding a crowd of noisy and apparently lost first years- someone else could help them find their way- and reached the first floor with a minute to spare. Could he make it on time? He hurtled down the remaining flight of stairs, taking the bottom five steps in one large jump, springing up, he rapidly changed direction and shot of in the right direction. He made it with seconds to spare, panting heavily, and took his seat just as the bell went off to mark the start of the day's lesson. Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, as if to give him a talking-to and then shut it again, deciding that, technically, he was on time.

The lesson was tougher than anyone had expected, the transfigurations were getting harder- not that that was a problem for Draco – but now they were also expected to perform the spells silently. Despite the practise that Draco had done, he was beginning to struggle, and by the end of the lesson he and Hermione were the only ones to have successfully summoned any birds at all, and they each won five points for Gryffindor and jealous stares from the rest of the class. All too soon the end of the class had arrived, and Draco and Harry were asked to stay behind. Harry was quickly dealt with, as Professor McGonagall informed him that Dumbledore wanted to see him that evening. Draco stayed behind for a bit longer.

'Well, Draco, I know this is a bit earlier than we usually do it, but since we've lost so many players, I want you to have plenty of time to think about it, You're cricket captain this year.'

'Thank you Professor.' Draco said, ever so slightly shocked.

'Not a problem. Nicely transfigured earlier, by the way. Very quickly done. Well, be off with you.'

And with that he was dismissed.

Now Draco had another problem to worry about, the Gryffindor cricket team. Then there was quidditch, Draco might not be nearly as good as that particular sport as Harry was, but he wasn't bad, and with several players having been lost, he might be in with a chance. No. There wasn't any point, for sport he'd concentrate on his cricket- quidditch was good, but it just didn't have the same appeal to Draco. And he was doing NEWTs now, it was time to prioritise- if he was going to play sport it had to be cricket, and since that took so much time out of the year, he'd better not waste the rest of it playing quidditch when he should be studying. It'd be a shame to hang up his broom, though; he'd definitely miss those early Saturday mornings, being yelled at by Wood, or even Harry, as the Gryffindor reserve team once more got annihilated by the Gryffindor firsts. Well, there was nothing to stop him taking his broom out for a spin every now and then – even if joy rides over the Forbidden Forest were forbidden and the increased security meant he could no longer leave the grounds- at least, not if he wanted to come back in again.

Draco's worries about the prospects of the Gryffindor Cricket Team paled in comparison to his curiosity about Harry's evening lessons with Dumbledore. He and Ron had a bet. Ron had laid down 1 Knut that Harry would be learning really cool defensive magic. Draco had bet 1 knut that Harry wouldn't, so it was with an eager sense of anticipation that they waited up playing gobstones in the common room whilst they waited for Harry to come back. Every so often Hermione would look up from her book and stare at the table where they sat and sigh. How long would it be until Harry got back? At the end of the fifth game of gobstones, whilst Draco wiped the last of the foul smell liquid the stones spat out from his face, Harry walked in.

'Well?'

'Well, what?'

'How did it go?'

'Yeah, well thanks mate- wasn't what I expected though.'

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah, Dumbledore had me looking through a load of old memories in his pensieve. All about how Tom Riddle grew up.'

'You mean, He-who-must-not-be-named?' Draco asked.

'Yeah I mean Voldemort alright.' Ron and Draco shivered at the very mention of the name whilst Hermione looked quite uncomfortable.

That stopped the conversation dead and the four friends sat silently for a while in the Gryffindor common room, looking at each other, wondering what to say. In the end, it was Harry who broke the silence.

'Well, I'd better head to bed, it's the Quidditch trials tomorrow. Need all the sleep I can get. So do you two, if you're trying out.'

'See you three in the morning then.' Hermione said, before heading up the staircase to the Girl's dormitories and out of sight. The three boys trudged heavily up the stairs to their beds, where they lay down and fell to sleep nearly instantly.

The morning came viciously as a sharp beam of light penetrated the hangings around Draco's bed and shone right in his face. Great. Couldn't morning have come later?

Draco slowly got out of bed, plonking his bare feet on the wooden floor of the dormitory, he sat up and rubbed his eyes. Over to the other side of the room, Harry and Ron were doing the same thing.

'Morning guys. Ready for trials?'

'Suppose so.' Ron said glumly.

'Perhaps. I wasn't going to try out this year though.'

'What? Why?'

'Well, there doesn't seem that much point- I'm never going to make the firsts, let's be honest, and what with McGonagall having given me cricket captain, I'm going to be far too busy with that.'

'You're cricket captain? When did you find out?'

'Yesterday- she told me after Transfiguration.'

'Funny they don't do it at the same time as quidditch captain, isn't it.' Ron noted, after a brief silence.

'Yeah, but I reckon that they just do quidditch earlier because the season starts sooner.'

'S'pose so.' Harry said. ' Would you mind coming out, Draco? Even if you aren't trying out, as a senior squad member you'd be able to give me a hand- particularly as you're not trying out for the team.'

'What, you want me to act as a panel of selectors?'

'Pretty much.'

'No problem Harry- It'll be nice to get one last run about on the broom.'

'S'pose so.' Harry said, sad that his friend was no longer going to play his favourite sport.

Out on the quidditch pitch the weather was improving. The heavy rains of the night before had given way to light clouds which were quickly burning off in the morning sun. There was not a wind to disturb the trees –only the whomping willow was moving now – and better conditions for flying couldn't be wished for. With a great swoop of delight, Draco kicked off hard from the ground and did a few laps. It was good to be out and about again on his broom which for the moment was just keeping up with everyone else doing their laps. Fine, well, he wasn't going to rush it yet, he didn't want to encourage the others to be foolish. Save that 'til later. It was only on the fourth lap that the great mass of Gryffindors began to string out. What wa this? He was being overtaken? By whom? Some cocky little second year. That would never do. Draco decided to show him who was boss.

Gently speeding up, he caught up with the little boy on his small broom, who instantly accelerated away. Draco sped up again and within seconds had drawn level. The boy sped up again. This time, Draco went straight past him, accelerating heavily around the bend. His stomach shot out sideways as he cornered, but he stayed on, every sinew in his arms fighting for grip. Then, the corner ended and Draco was back on the straight. A quick glance over his shoulder showed that the other boy had slowed down for the corner, but he wasn't far behind. The Gadfly may have been getting on a bit, as brooms go, but in Draco's mind it was the finest in production, able to out-corner any other broom on the market. It could certainly outfly everyone else who was trying out. It felt good to fly this fast, and as the wind whipped Draco's face he leaned forward to go faster, faster and faster he went and before long he found himself tightly grabbing his broom in a full race tuck position, wondering whether or not to slow down for the corner. Draco didn't slow down before banking sharply to the left and completing the turn. Draco was fairly sure that the only reason he stayed on his broom was that the force slinging him to the outside of the bend was forcing him down strongly across it. Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd flown this, well, aggressively. It felt good and for the first time, Draco really understood the comments in _WhichBroom?_ about cornering ability. This thing was incredible. Coming out of the bend he accelerated again, now nearly lying flat on his broom, head up, looking out for the other flyers in the way. He came up to the main body of stragglers, those who hadn't spread out when the pack had started to break up. Instead of slowing down, Draco tightened his grip still further until his knuckles were just starting to go white and then executed a near perfect barrel roll, coming out in front of them in a lovely large piece of clear space. Perfect. Before he had a chance to overtake anyone else though, Harry spoiled his fun by loudly blowing his whistle and calling them all down to the ground.

'Right, well, that's enough of that, you can all fly without falling off your brooms. Now, we're going to do trials by playing a couple of five minute games with the bludgers and quaffle whilst the seekers hunt the snitch. Draco here will be refereeing the games so I can get a good look at everyone. Now split up into your positions, seekers over there, keepers that way, chasers here and beaters there.'

They were soon split up into teams and they took to the air. Draco released the bludgers and, as he had seen Madame Hooch do so many times before, released the quaffle into the air. From the nearly empty stands came shouts of encouragement from those who had come along to watch. Whilst most of his attention went to refereeing the game, in the five minute breaks in between them, which Harry used to swap people between teams, Draco watched the stands to see who was in them. Hermione was there, as were a whole other gaggle of girls and most of the first year boys. Draco didn't have much time for looking though as soon enough he had to head back to the middle of the pitch to start the next match. The game started as usual. By now, Draco could see that Harry had sorted the teams out into two tiers- there was the first team on one side and the seconds on the other and the score line was ever increasing. Draco's gaze never lingered in one place for long- with so much going on to referee, there was no way it could – but he did manage to see Harry catch the snitch. Draco blew his whistle and the first stage of the trials came to an end.

'Right. Well, thank you for turning up everyone. That's it for now, except for the keepers. Anyone who wants to stay behind to shoot at the goals is more than welcome, but unless you want to be a keeper, you can go.' Harry dismissed the players and most of those who had come left, along with a good proportion of the crowd. Hermione was still in the stands though.

Harry and Draco took to the air to watch the goals in a penalty shoot out between the two candidates for keeper. Cormac McLaggen, a burly boy who looked as if he could probably fill a goal by flying in front of it, and Ron, whose gangly frame made for a great reach, but didn't give him much ability to block shots with his body.

McLaggen went first and blocked the first four shots without incident. On the fifth shot however, he went completely the wrong way. Next up was Ron, who managed somehow to block all of his shots, even if on the third, he was upside down hanging onto his broom desperately with his legs whilst he used his arms to fend off the ball. When Harry announced that Ron had gotten the position, McLaggen started ranting about favouritism and stormed off in a huff.

It was with a degree of sadness that Draco touched down. This would be his last time with the quidditch team. Harry was pleased with his new team though, confiding in Draco that he thought they had a good shot at the cup. Draco wished he could say the same about the cricket shield, which, unless some unknown new talent showed up, would be going straight to Slytherin. That was a long way off though, several months away, whereas the first Gryffindor quidditch match was only a week away. Could Gryffindor win the match? Draco didn't know. There was one thing thing that bugged him though- why had McLaggen gone the wrong way. He looked like he'd been confunded, but who would have done that? Draco stalked out of the changing rooms and collided with Hermione.

'Sorry.'

'Sorry. You alright?' Draco asked.

'Yes, I'm fine, how about you?'

'No bones broken. Sorry about that, heading back up to the castle?'

'I thought I'd wait for Ron, to congratulate him.'

'Well, I'll see you later, I need to head back up to the castle for a sit down- I hit the ground so fast there it was almost as if I'd been confounded.'

Hermione blushed pink as Draco's fishing found its target.

'Don't tell him, will you?'

'Of course not.'


	41. Chapter 41

The week went by quickly with Draco completing several essays and doing some important reading. Ron and Harry did none of these though, they were too busy practising quidditch. The pressure on the team grew, as everyone in Gryffindor tower wished them luck and told them that they knew that Gryffindor would win the first match. Most of the team could handle it, but Ron seemed to be cracking under the pressure and by the morning of the first match, he was approaching a full hysteric breakdown. At breakfast, Harry pretended- convincingly- to slip some of the precious felix felicis into Ron's early morning pumpkin juice. Feeling lucky even though the seal on the potion vial was unbroken, Ron went on to save three improbable shots that even Oliver Wood would have let go straight through the hoops. When Gryffindor won with a clean sheet therefore, it was Ron who was treated as the hero of the hour.

The party in the common room went on until late that night, with loads of sweets and butterbeers being consumed. The whole team was praised mightily by the rest of the house. As the party went on, Lavender Brown, a girl who Draco had ignored on principle for years for committing the heinous crime of being silly and having fun far too often, came up to Ron. First they hugged, then they, for want of a better word, kissed, then Hermione ran out of the room. Draco looked back one last time at Ron, who looked as though he was trying to eat Lavender's face rather than kiss her, and followed Hermione.

When he found her again, she was sat down, curled up in a window, tears rolling down her cheeks. Unsure of what to do, Draco sat down by her feet and sat in silence for a while, head hung. Eventually, he spoke.

'What's wrong, Hermione?'

'Hermione looked up, startled, she had been so lost in her own misery that she hadn't noticed the arrival of Draco.

'Oh, nothing. I'm just being silly.'

'Come on, Hermione, this isn't nothing. Why'd you run away like that?'

Hermione was silent for a long time.

'Well?'

'Ron.'

'Because he was kissing Lavender?'

'Yes.' Said Hermione, simply.

Draco's heart plummeted. But why? Why should he be so badly affected by the news that Hermione was feeling scorned by Ron? Then it came to him. There could only be one reason. Somewhen, somehow, Draco had developed a crush on Hermione. Now he'd just found out that she didn't think any more of him than she did anyone else. He was just a friend to her. Nothing more. The quick disappearance of the smile from Draco's face wasn't noticed by Hermione, who was oblivious of any change on Draco's part. Draco was determined not to change his behaviour either. He came out here to comfort Hermione, and that's what he was damned well going to do.

'It's not that bad, Hermione. We all find that people we fancy don't love us when we're young. I know this isn't what you want to hear, but there's someone out there waiting for you. You just don't know it yet.'

'Thanks, Draco. I suppose he is at perfect liberty to kiss whoever he likes. And so am I.' Hermione said, with a sense of steely resolve. She got up and headed back into the party. Draco got up and followed her in. When he got there an unwelcome sight greeted his eyes. Hermione was embracing McLaggen and their jaws were clamped together in a kiss that was far more elegant than the one that Ron had had not fifteen minutes ago. So, he was second to McLaggen now, was he? Great. Draco reminded himself that he wasn't going to change his behaviour towards Hermione, and feeling the urge to clout McLaggen, he feigned that he was tired and went up to bed.

Draco woke early the next morning, keen to avoid anyone he might know, most of all Hermione, and headed down to breakfast. On the door of the Great Hall, a notice was pinned, telling anyone who might care to know that for those in the 6th year there would be apparition lessons for anyone who was interested, and refresher courses for anyone who already had their licence but was a bit out of practise. Draco knew instantly, that this was all that anyone was going to be talking about in class for quite some time. Well, thought Draco, apparition would be a useful skill to have in the coming years, and put his name right at the top of the list. For only 12 galleons, it would be a bargain.

A bargain it may have been, but it didn't start for another two months, which left Draco in rather a quandary, what to do with himself of an evening? Harry was busy with Dumbledore most nights, learning more about the Dark Lord's past, Ron was attached to Lavender and Hermione was spending most of her time in the girls' dormitories, desperately trying to stay away from McLaggen, who after that kiss seemed to want nothing more than to encourage a repeat performance by telling Hermione about his quidditch career. It wasn't even as if he had much work to do, since he normally managed to complete most of his work in the frees in the middle of the day and at lunchtime.

After an unusually light day's work, with only Transfiguration in the morning and Defence Against the Dark Arts in the early afternoon, Draco had completed that day's essays by dinner and had even caught up with the interminable reading required for History of Magic. Faced with a long evening of utter boredom, or socialising with first years, Draco didn't return to the common room after dinner, but instead headed up the stairs to the room of requirement. He stalked past the entrance the required number of times wishing for something to stop himself being bored. The door appeared as expected and Draco walked in.

The room was full of rubbish, but in the middle of it all, mounted upon a low platform was the biggest collections of tubes and pipes Draco had ever seen. Looking down, he saw rows of keyboards and a pedal board. His face lit up. It was an organ, and compared to the one at home it was huge. If only there was some sheet music. As the thought crossed Draco's mind, a large bound book appeared on the music rest of the organ. He walked closer and read the title, _Popular Themes_. Draco opened the book and flicked through. Oh, there was one he knew, how hard could it be? Draco sat down, pulled out a variety of stops and started playing. Hmm, sounded a bit off- of course, the tremulant was on, giving each note the sense that it could bring anyone to tears of sadness. It had its place, but not here. Draco pushed the stop in to cancel it and linked a couple of manuals together to get the sound he wanted. He started to play again. Ahh, yes that was better, a bit slow perhaps, but that would improve with practice, no doubt.

The next few hours passed in a rapture of music, with Draco ploughing through the book picking out songs he liked and ignoring those he didn't or was unfamiliar with. Stops flew in and out as songs changed and Draco's feet skipped over the pedals whilst his fingers did much the same thing on the manuals. If it wasn't any good than Draco didn't know it, and when he came to the end of the book and looked at his watch, he realised that he was supposed to have been in the common room five minutes ago.

Not wanting to be caught out at this hour, Draco snuck back to the common room, desperately trying to avoid being seen- if anyone saw him now, not even being a prefect could get him out of it. What was that? A noise? Where was it coming from? Draco ducked into a deep shadow behind a suit of armour and waited for the noise to pass. It was definitely footsteps, Draco could make that out clearly now. Oh please don't let it be Snape. It wasn't. It was Harry. Draco crept up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

'Who? Oh, it's you, Draco.'

'Have a good lesson, then?'

'Yeah, it was alright thanks.' They carried on walking in an awkward silence.

'Draco?'

'Yes, Harry?'

'Dumbledore showed me something rather interesting today. It was another memory, one from Voldemort's school days.'

'Right.'

'Well, it went a bit funny- Dumbledore said it had been interfered with – modified - by the person whose memory it was. He says we aren't going to have any more lessons until I get hold of that memory.'

'Bloody Hell. That's a bit of a tall order, isn't it? Do you know whose memory it is?'

'Yeah, it's old Sluggers' memory.'

'Well, that's something at least- but how are you going to get it out of him- the true memory that is?'

'I don't know. That's the thing.'

'Well, If I were you I'd think about it over the holidays- Sirius'll be able to help you – at any rate, don't make your move before Slughorn throws his Christmas party, from what Uncle Noctifer's told me they sound awesome, and you don't want to be missed out because you've upset him, do you?'

'Not really, but it sounded like it was important. But I suppose you're right, Dumbledore was going somewhere over the holidays – he refused to say where – something to do with these horcrux thingies.'

'Horcrux?'

'Yeah, keep this under your hat, right. I don't think I'm supposed to be telling you.'

'Telling me what?'

'Well, it's this piece of dark magic. It stores a bit of your soul away in something else- that's how Dumbledore described it, anyway. It makes you immortal. Voldemort's using them and more than one.'

'Oh yes?'

'Well, there was that diary of Riddle we found in second year.'

'I know the one; you practically went to bed with it. You're telling me that's got a bit of Voldmort's soul in it? Urrgh!'

'Well, it hasn't anymore- apparently when we stabbed that basilisk fang through it, it got rid of his soul.'

'I see. But you say he has more than one?'

'Oh, yes. You know that ring Dumbledore's been wearing?'

'On his blackened hand?'

'That's the one. Well, apparently that used to be one too. He hasn't told me how he destroyed it.'

'If these things are so easy to destroy, how come they're any use then?'

'Well, they're not that easy to destroy apparently, but the key thing is, Voldemort hasn't left them unprotected. You know that hand.'

'The one that went black, you mean?'

'Yeah. Well, apparently that's from a curse on the ring. Don't tell anyone, but Dumbledore told me that he's only got a year to live- if he's lucky.'

'A year?'

'Yeah, not long is it?'

'No, not long at all.'

They arrived back at the Fat Lady, said the password and entered. The common room was deserted, so Draco and Harry headed up to bed, keen to get some shut-eye before morning.

The morning brought more lessons, as did the afternoon. In the evening Ron was glued to Lavender and Hermione was glued to her books, particularly the thick and heavy books required for ancient runes, which proved useful in fending off Cormac when he was being a bore – one quick smack soon sent him scarpering, even if he did seem to miss the message, shrugging it off as Hermione playing hard-to-get. Life was beginning to settle down to a routine with only the usual level of work and no other worries when the invitation to Slughorn's Christmas party came through. On the end it said:

_Feel free to bring a guest._

Great. Now he had to worry about inviting someone along. Who did he know that he could invite? No-one really. Who did he know he could invite- not another member of the Slug Club- that wasn't right. It also ruled out almost every girl Draco knew apart from Luna Lovegood, and swhilst he was fond of Luna as a friend, Draco couldn't bring himself to ask her along, at any rate, Draco suspected that Harry might do that. Who to ask, it could be anyone. Hang on, _it could be anyone_. He didn't have to invite a pupil, not even someone who was at Hogwarts. Who did he know who he could invite given that, then? Well, the best bet would be a family member- they'd probably say yes, but then most of them would have trouble getting past security, Draco thought, reflecting on his auntie Bellatrix. Tonks wouldn't though- she was an auror, not to mention that she was guarding Hogwarts anyway- there was no way she wouldn't be able to come. Draco smiled happily to himself. He'd gotten that problem solved, now he had someone to go with. All he had to do was send the invite. Now, what to write?

_Dear Tonks,_

_Hope you are well. Are you doing anything in the evening Friday week? I don't know whether you know about it, but Professor Slughorn often invites a group of pupils over for a meal. He's holding a christams party for us at 7 in the evening on the Friday after next and has encouraged us to bring guests. I was wondering whether you wanted to come? _

_Take care,_

_Draco M._

_P.S. Have you got any tips about where to look up casting stronger shields - Snape asked us to look into them this week and I can't find anything in my books from the library. Thanks!_

The letter came back swiftly by return of owl. The paper looked like it had been cried on slightly, which made Tonks' scrawl even harder to read.

_Dear Draco,_

_Thank-you for your invitation- I'll need to have a word with the auror-in-charge of the Hogwarts security patrols to make sure I can get an evening off, but I don't think that'll be a problem, so you can put me down as a provisional yes. It'll be really nice to see you again. On the matter of the shield spells, I'd try and find a copy of Blocking the Unblockable by Emdessim Kuwaji. You may have trouble finding it at Hogwarts, but Flourish and Blotts always has one in stock, you could try there. Is it a Dress robes affair? Only I haven't got any. _

_Yours,_

_N Tonks._

_P.S. I'm a size 12._

Ahh, a definite hint at the end there. Time for a word with Hermione. But hang on, that might make her think she didn't like her... but no, she didn't care about him anyway, so what did it matter? Well, Hermione was just sitting over there. Doing ancient Runes, again. Draco went over and sat down next to Hermione. Wallop!

'Ow what was that for?' Draco asked, rubbing his arm where Hermione had hit him with the book.

'Oh, Draco, it's you. I thought you were Cormac, come back again. He's not left me alone all evening.'

'Well, he's dedicated, you can't fault him for that.'

'Yes you can, you just have to see that he's being stubborn and obtuse, it's very easy to fault him for that.'

'Yes, well, I didn't come to discuss McLaggen, Hermione.'

'Now there's a relief.'

'I want to ask you about dress robes.'

'You've already got some haven't you. And wouldn't your uncle be a better person to ask?'

'Not about dress robes for ladies.'

'Something you're not telling us, Malfoy?' A cheeky fourth year asked. Draco gave him a dirty look and carried on talking to Hermione.

'I see. So who are they for?'

'Tonks.'

'Right. Well, I'll have to think on that one. Do you know her size?'

'Yes.'

'Good, I won't ask how or why, but I hope they're a Christmas present.'

'Yeah, they are I suppose, a sort of early Christmas present. She hasn't got any you see, and I was taking her to Slughorn's party.'

'So, into older women, are you?'

'Not particularly, it's just I assumed you'd be going with McLaggen.' Draco said playfully, earning him another wallop from the ancient runes book. 'and I don't know anyone else in the school I'd like to go with.'

'Really, you couldn't think of a single person other than me in this entire school?' Hermione said half-flattered, half-disbelieving.

'No-one I'd like to spend time with, and out of the female members of my family, she's the only one who isn't wither dead or wanted for mass murder.'

'What about Tonks's mum?'

'Oh, Andromeda! Hadn't thought of her, but really, going with her would be worse than going with McGonagall. She tends to mother people.'

'I see.' Said Hermione, in a voice that implied she didn't, 'Well, I don't know what you want to get, but I'd be inclined to get something in purple- we met a couple of times at headquarters and she said that she likes purple. Other than that, try to avoid too much lace and keep the neckline reasonably high – you need to cut a fine line between looking like a Victorian governess and looking like something out of the Arabian nights. Other than that, you could either go for the dress that stops at the ankles or goes all the way down to the floor. Just go for what you like from some catalogue or other, any old one will do. I can borrow one from Parvati for you, if you like.'

'Thanks, Hermione, that'd be great.'


	42. Chapter 42

When Draco collected Tonks from the entrance hall, he was amazed. His cousin had changed from the leather clad tom-boy that he had met in the department of mysteries into one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. As they walked through the corridors heads turned and people whispered behind their hands, wondering who Draco Malfoy was taking somewhere. By the next morning rumours had spread throughout the entire castle, some saying Draco had summoned a succubus from a cauldron, some saying that Draco was dating a supermodel. No-one guessed the truth, no-one who wasn't at Slughorn's party anyway, and they don't count, because they were told it.

'Hello Draco,' Slughorn boomed, a huge smile across his already ruddy face, he gestured to the student who was serving the drinks- Neville- who came over with his tray and Slughorn dished out a glass to Draco and to Tonks.

'So, Draco, tell me. Who is your ravishing guest?'

'Professor Slughorn, let me introduce you to my cousin, Tonks. Tonks, Professor Slughorn.'

'Tonks. That is an unusual name isn't it m'dear?'

'Not for a surname. I happen to prefer it to my Christian name.' Tonks said a little bit haughtily, finding Slughorn's attitude slightly condescending.

'I quite see. I've never been particularly fond of Horace myself.'

'It is still better than Nymphadora.'

'Quite so, Tonks.'

'Thank you, Horry.' Tonks replied. She was rewarded by seeing Slughorn blush puce. Not long after, Harry arrived with Luna, who Slughorn seemed slightly shocked to meet and then Hermione rolled in, wearing a dress that made Draco's heart plunge in the knowledge that he would never be able to call her his girlfriend, let alone his wife. All hope of that was extinguished when she saw who Hermione had just walked in with. Ron. Draco wondered what Lavender thought about all of this, and then decided that if she knew, she thought they were going as friends, or else Ron and Lavender were no longer an item. Well, that would be an interesting one for tomorrow, but for now, Draco wanted to enjoy the party. He hadn't enjoyed himself this much for quite some time. The nibbles went round and were frequently restocked, the wine went round after it, and whilst they weren't allowed that much, it made a pleasant change from pumpkin juice. This was the sort of thing Draco hadn't been to in years, and the first time he wasn't treated as a youthful novelty at one of these events. This time, he was here as himself, not as his father's appendage and he had a beautiful woman on his arm. Not only was Tonks beautiful, but she was funny and brainy. A perfect match, if she hadn't been close family. Mind you, if she hadn't been close family, there was no way that she'd be here right now as she'd have refused to come. Quite understandably too, after all, what auror would really want to spend their time with a bunch of kids and a few old fogeys? Tonks, apparently, as she seemed to be having a great time, but Draco felt this was just a front for the sake of being polite. When the evening came to an end, Draco accompanied Tonks back to the entrance hall, gave her a hug goodbye and apologised if she felt it had been a dull evening. She said it hadn't, gave him another hug and disappeared into the night.

Draco walked slowly back to the common room, stopping at every window to breathe in the heavy, wintry night air. Inside Draco felt the turmoil of confusion. Certainly, he had just had a very nice evening with his cousin and should feel happy, but why was even this tinged with sadness? Was he incapable of happiness? Hermione and Ron had appeared happy, so had Harry. The only other person in that room who didn't seem perfectly thrilled to be there was Ginny, who for the last couple of days had been looking out of sorts. Probably something to do with her breakup from Dean. That wasn't going smoothly. Curiously enough, Harry seemed rather happy about it all. Arriving back at the Fat Lady, Draco said the password, 'bauble', snuck in and went up to bed. The last day before the holidays was an uneventful one, with only a rescheduled History of Magic lesson interrupting what was otherwise a day of packing and preparation for the journey home the next day.

NEWT level History of Magic was different to OWL level by a large margin. For a start, Binns actually seemed to be interested in it and had actually learnt Draco's name. Draco was for his part getting on quite well with the late Professor whose style had changed from a bored monologue into having active and engaging discussions with his sole pupil. Draco wasn't sure what had brought on the change, but suspected it might have been the novelty of the situation, since Binns hadn't had a NEWT student for some time. Today, they were going through Draco's essay on the role of wizardry in ancient Rome. There were no major flaws in Draco's argument, but Binns did suggest some techniques for polishing his essays which Binns claimed would help in exams. Draco took note of them, but also reckoned he'd run them past someone else first, just in case they were more relevant to the 18th century examiners than they were to today's.

When the lesson was over, Binns drifted out through the blackboard and Draco walked out through the door and downstairs to the Great Hall for an early lunch. Lunch passed quickly and Draco headed back up to his dorm to pack. On the way up he passed Ron and Hermione heading down for lunch and then came across Harry and Ginny walking down not far behind. Why was it that he was always left on his own? Never mind. Draco carried on upstairs and was soon in the dormitory. Slowly, he began to pack. There wasn't any rush after all. Spare trousers and shirts went down the bottom of the trunk, just on top of the hefty textbooks that raised the base by a good few inches. Soon his few clean shirts were neatly folded away and everything else was thrown in on top. There. Packed. Draco sat heavily on his bed which squeaked in protest. Sitting there, elbows on knees and head in his hands, Draco felt sorry for himself. His eyes moistened, but he soon rubbed that away, steeling himself to ever greater stoic heights by repeating what had become his mantra. _I must not be weak, _he thought, over and again. He would overcome this. Hermione had chosen Ron. She didn't care for him as anything more than a friend. That was fine; it was how it had always been. He had been a fool to hope for anything different. Anyway, there were plenty of girls out there like her. Plenty. He just couldn't think of any at the moment. It wasn't as if she was perfect anyway, Draco thought as his thoughts slid down an ever darker track. She was more dedicated to being good at what she did than she ever would be to Ron, let alone him. She had a vicious streak running through her a mile wide- just think what she'd done to Edgecombe the previous year. Not to mention she was muggle born and he was a pure blood. It couldn't have worked anyway, a thousand years of breeding told him. Somewhere in the back of his mind though, he remembered that James Potter had married a muggle-born. No he couldn't hold that against her. But, Draco consoled himself, it wouldn't have worked anyway, it was just a passing fancy, that was all. A passing fancy, that comes one day and is gone in the wind the next. Draco kept repeating it to himself, whenever he was alone and he fell asleep that night repeating it, hoping that if he repeated it enough times, it might become true.

Draco woke that morning wondering why it was so light. Then he realised it was morning and time for him to leave. He got up, dressed himself and finished off the tiny, last little bit of packing. He heaved his heavy trunk onto his bed and headed down for breakfast, sure in the knowledge that by nightfall he would be at home with his uncle. After breakfast with Harry, Ron and Hermione, Draco left for a walk around the grounds, before the aurors came to escort them to the train. Halfway round, he bumped intoAlbus Dumbledore.

'Hello, Sir.'

'Hello Draco.' Dumbledore said, waving his withered hand at him. 'Yes, it's not nice, is it? A result of failing to think before doing. I was rather hoping to talk to you about it.'

'About your hand, Sir?'

'Yes, well, no, not really. You see, it's a curse Draco. A nasty one at that and it'll kill me before the year's out.'

'I'm sorry, Sir.'

'Don't feel sorry for old men who have lived their time Draco, feel sorry who never lived to reach their prime. Being bowled for 115 is a good innings.'

'Very respectable, Sir.'

'Yes, you could say that, I suppose and productive too, even if I say so myself. At any rate, what I really wanted to tell you was that for my memorial I want a cricket match to be played between current and former students. I was wondering if you'd be the captain for the home team. The match will be in the second week of May.'

'Is that when you're going to..?' Draco paused, unsure of how to mention the oncoming change tactfully.

'Die? No, It's not, I hope, but I wanted to see my memorial while I was still alive. Doesn't seem much point having one to celebrate the life of me if _I_ can't enjoy it. So if you could have a think about that. I hope it's not too much trouble.'

'No trouble at all, Sir. It'll be an honour.'

'Thank-you, Draco. Well, I had best be heading back to the castle now, and so should you if you don't wish to miss the train.'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Oh, and Draco.'

'Yes, Sir?'

'Before you do anything foolish, remember young love often doesn't last.'

'I will Sir. Thank you.' What was all that about? Draco headed back to the castle and met up with Ron and Hermione.

'Hello, you two, everything packed?'

'Yup, you?'

'Yeah, finished it last night.'

'Alright for some, I was doing it all morning.' Ron moaned.

'Well, if you don't get started sooner, what can you expect sweetums?' Hermione responded.

'Come off it, Hermione. You're sounding like my mother.' Ron retorted. A flash of grief crossed Hermione's face and Draco couldn't blame her given how her boy was comparing her to his mother. And not in a favourable light either. The aurors arrived and spread out through the column of students that had assembled to walk down to the train.

'I don't see why we couldn't use the coaches.' Some high pitched voice asked in the distance. Draco didn't hear the reply, but thought that it was obvious – it simply wasn't as safe to be spread out as it was to walk down in one huge group. All the aurors on the Hogwarts protection detail were here and preparing to insert themselves into the column. Draco caught Tonks' eye and she came over to them.

'Hi Drakes. How you doing?'

'Fine thanks, Tonks, you?'

'Yeah, everything's alright here. I'm installing myself in the column and then joining you for the train ride.'

'Why? You didn't accompany us up?'

'Things have changed whilst you've been up here. Things they aren't sticking in the Prophet.'

'Such as?'

'More and more attacks are happening every day. Quite a lot of them are being fended off, but those that You-know-who has attended personally, well, they haven't been so lucky. We're concerned that there might be an attack on the train.'

'Any hard evidence or is this just a guess?'

'Just a guess, anything more and the lot of you would be staying here for the holidays, but our political masters want service as usual.'

'No change there then.'

'None at all. Ah, hello Harry.'

'Hi Tonks. How are you?'

'Fine thanks. We were just discussing the current theories about the security of the train.'

'Oh yes?'

'Well, Alastor reckons there's going to be an attack. Dumbledore agrees so he's getting several of us aurors to accompany you to London. We drew lots and I'm in charge of you.'

'Me?' Harry said, surprised.

'Yes, you. You're a valuable target Harry, at least you are to Voldemort. Second only to Albus, and we reckon that you're a far easier target to go after.'

'No I'm not. I can defend myself.'

'Yes we know, but seriously Harry, do you reckon that you're a better fighter than Dumbledore? Really? From what I saw in the ministry six months ago I'd say you were luckier, but not more skilled.'

'Thanks.' Harry sarcastically said.

'You're welcome.' Tonks said, ignoring it.

After the walk to the train, Draco's feet were aching as he stood on the platform. Before long the magnificent scarlet engine could be seen, huffing its way towards them. As it slowed to stop at the station, great clouds of steam whooshed up at them from below the level of the platform. Slowly the train stopped before coming noisily to a rest. Their luggage was loaded onto the guard's van at the back and they boarded the train. Perhaps because Tonks had climbed in with them, Harry, Ron, Draco and Hermione had the compartment to themselves- if you ignored Tonks that was. They didn't and had great fun on the way back, laughing, telling jokes and playing "Hunt the Exploding Snap Card" all the way to King's Cross. The friends parted amicably, with Draco heading home with Noctifer and the rest heading to the Headquarters of the Order with Tonks.

Noctifer's dark hair was now littered with flecks of grey. Apparently the stress of the Dark Lord's return to the open had not done him any favours physically, even if it had helped his business. Most of the Holiday Noctifer wasn't at home as he was out installing security charms into people's homes and the few times that he was at home he didn't seem as carefree as once he had. It was over a nondescript Christmas Dinner that Draco finally got round to asking his uncle what had happened at home since he had left for school three months ago.

'Oh, not much really. I've been busy. Mainly doing charms for other people, but I've installed quite a few round here too. Gringotts'd be easier to break into. There's only one charm left I could add, and that's the Fidelius charm. Come across it?'

'Yeah, loads of times, you built it into the headquarters of the Order, didn't you.'

'Of course I did. Made Albus the secret keeper too. Silly me. Should have thought about that. That's been a big worry too.'

'Has it?'

'Oh yes, I shouldn't tell you, but hey- as a friend of Harry's you're practically a member of the Order anyway, aren't you? Well, I've been busy. We've been doing random patrols of the wizarding areas when we can. I haven't had this little sleep since I was at Hogwarts, and I don't think I'm up to it anymore.'

'So what are you going to do?'

'I don't know. Dumbledore's made it clear he doesn't mind if I stop being quite so active, but I don't want to let him down, Draco. You understand, don't you?'

'Yeah, I do. I wouldn't worry about it though. I don't think Dumbledore's going to last much longer.'

'Why'd you say that?'

'He told me he's dying. He doesn't think he's got a year left to live.'

'Poor man.'

'It could be worse. I think he's ready for death in a way.'

'Particularly if that hand of his is hurting him all the time.'

'Yes.' Draco paused, 'Uncle Noctifer?'

'Yes?'

'Nothing. Sorry.' Said Draco, unsure of how to ask the question. Not that Uncle Noctifer, a lifelong bachelor, would necessarily know the answer anyway.


	43. Chapter 43

On Boxing Day, Draco went with Noctifer to the Headquarters, ostensibly so Noctifer could report in, mainly so Draco could see his friends. Harry was particularly happy to see him whereas Ron and Hermione seemed to be out to murder each other and barely noticed him.

'What's going on?' A bewildered Draco asked Harry.

'Here? Nothing much, or do you mean between.' His eyes darted first to Ron and then to Hermione.

'The latter.'

'I see. Fancy a drink, Draco? Let's head downstairs and get something.'

'What was that all about?' Draco blurted out as soon as the door had closed to behind them.

'Ron got a present from Lavender yesterday.'

'Well, what's wrong with that?'

'Ron was too enthusiastic about it.'

'Too enthusiastic?'

'Yeah, Hermione was next to him and, well, you must have noticed.'

'What, that they were getting close. Yeah, I noticed.' Draco said.

'Anyway, this present.'

'Go on.'

'As I said, Ron was rather enthusiastic about it. Hermione read that as meaning he preferred Lavender to her.'

'Well, does he?'

'What're you asking me for? Personally I'm not sure. He might, but then again he has basically dumped her for Hermione, even if he hasn't told her yet.'

'There's a But coming, isn't there?'

'But... Ron's stuck his foot in it a few too many times where Hermione's concerned this holiday. Hermione's reading it as if he still cares more about Lavender and they're back at each other's throats again. I've been trying to talk it through with them, but Ron just says I'm on Hermione's side and vice versa.'

'Sounds like you've got a plan.' Draco said. Harry smirked at that.

'You could say that. When you said you were coming, I booked two tickets for a train to London.'

'Why are you going to London?'

'I'm not. You are. I reckon if you take Hermione down to London and watch a show or something, then I can talk to Ron without Hermione overhearing, you can smooth things over by Hermione and then this evening I can have my friends back again.'

'And I thought you were being altruistic.' Draco scoffed. 'When's the train?'

'You've got half an hour to get to the station. It's about a forty minute walk, so I'd get a move on if I were you.'

'Does Hermione know about this?'

'No. I figured it would seem less like a set up that way.'

'Right I'll get on it then. See you later.' Draco headed back upstairs to interrupt Rona dn Hermione in the middle of a flaming row. He'd have to handle this carefully if Harry's plan for a bit of peace was going to work.

'Hermione? Can I have a word?' Draco said quickly, in a gap in the arguing. Draco took Hermione outside and as the door closed, Ron delivered one last parting shot.

'That's it. Run away the moment you aren't winning.'

Hermione was on the verge of tears as it was and within seconds she had tears streaming down her cheeks. Aware of the need to hurry, Draco put an arm around Hermione and carefully led her downstairs to the kitchen, where Noctifer and Dumbledore were indulging in a pot of tea.

'Noctifer?'

'Yeah, kiddo?'

'Any chance you can take me and Hermione to the station for the twenty-three past twelve train?'

'I suppose so, but why?'

'Oh, there was an idea of heading to London to see a show or something like that.' Draco said, sure that the grand plan was about to be scuppered.

'Well, I suppose I can.' Said Noctifer. Dumbledore nodded his approval and as soon as Hermione had changed into something a bit smarter and had wiped away her tears Noctifer apparated them to the nearby station. With Hermione's help, Draco managed to print out the tickets that Harry had booked from the machine which had replaced the ticket office and they walked out onto the sunny platform. Looking about, Draco noticed that no-one else was on the platform and when he listened the quiet rumble of traffic being drowned out by birdsong told him that no-one was about. Noctifer said goodbye and disappeared in a puff of nothing, leaving Draco alone on the platform with Hermione.

'Had a good Christmas?' Draco asked, trying to be friendly.

'Could have been worse. Ron's been a complete jerk, but you've seen that.'

'Get anything nice?'

'Nothing special. Thanks for the make-your-own wand kit. Where on earth did you find it? I've never seen one before.'

'Ah.' Said Draco tapping his nose. 'Trade secret.' Hermione wasn't impressed by that answer, so Draco quickly changed tack.

'There's a little shop in Hogsmeade that does these things, if you meet the entry requirements.'

'Entry requirements? For a shop?'

'Yeah, well, the owner's a raving lunatic when it comes to blood purity-he's cast a charm on the place that means you can't see it if you're not pureblood.'

'Really? You're having me on aren't you?'

'No, I'm not. It's next to the Hog's Head.'

'There's nothing there, just a fence round the beer garden.'

'So that's what you see is it? Well, if you reckon it's a beer garden, where's the door to get to it from inside the pub?' Draco suggested. Hermione couldn't think of anything and fell silent. Eventually the electric train pulled in, the electric doors slid open and Draco and Hermione jumped on board. The strangely upholstered seats were all empty – indeed apart from one man reading his newspaper, the _Daily Herald_ in the next carriage, there was no-one else on board at all. Well, apart from the driver and guard, but they were each in their own compartments, so didn't really count. A beeping filled the carriage and the doors slid closed. Silently Draco was impressed - he hadn't seen anything like that before, for all of his experience of the muggle world since he had started living with his uncle. The train started slowly and silently. No great whooshes or billows of steam were to be seen or heard, just the ever increasing clickety-clack of the trains rolling over the joints in the track. Somehow, it just wasn't right. They were halfway to London before any more passengers boarded the train and as they sneaked through the silent suburbs, the train became really full. As the train filled, one question became more and more important. What were they going to do? It was hours until the theatres would be opening and Draco suspected that Hermione had done most of the major tourist attractions at some point. He thought he had. In the end, as they boarded the Circle line tube train to South Kensington. From there it was a short walk to the Science Museum. They walked in and started to look around. There were all sorts of things inside, from steam engines to spacecraft, and Draco spent a fascinated couple of hours looking at the exhibits and having them explained roughly by Hermione. Soon however it was dark, and being keen to catch the performance, they left the museum and hurried back to the tube station. Hurrying down the escalators they just managed to catch the train going in the right direction before it left, although only just as the doors nearly closed on Draco's coat. They made it with plenty of time to spare, and Draco forked over several notes to the man in the box office to pay for two seats in the dress circle. Looking at his watch Draco noticed that there wasn't much time to spare, so they headed in to take their seats. They had just sat down when the orchestra played a few notes to warm up and burst into the overture. Before long Draco's foot was tapping along to the beat of song after song, interspersed with some dialogue. It seemed Hermione had enjoyed it too, as it was merrily that she almost skipped back to the station. Before long they had negotiated the Underground and were on the last train of the day that stopped at the small country station they had left earlier that day. It winded its way back out through the well-lit suburbs and further out it picked up speed as it powered through the countryside. Hermione was humming some of the tunes from the show, and Draco was reflecting. The emperor's son had married who he wanted, then presented his wife to his father. How on earth had the muggles managed to get to be more civilised than the wizarding world? For in matters of the heart, it seemed to Draco that they were.

It was no good declaring this to Hermione though – the whole reason he was here was because Hermione was upset with Ron, and she wouldn't have been upset with Ron if she fancied Draco instead, now would she? There wasn't anyone Draco could really talk about it with, so he just added it to the ever-growing list of why he was fed up with being Draco Malfoy.

The train stopped at the dimly lit station and Draco and Hermione hopped off. No-one was there to collect them- hardly a surprise- so they headed out through the gate onto the dark and dingy road back to headquarters. On either side of the road the tall, looming trees made strange shapes against the pitch black skies. In the far distance, through tiny gaps in the branches, a faint afterglow of the nearest town could be seen. The night air was rapidly cooling and by the looks of things, Hermione was beginning to shiver. Certainly there were goosebumps all along her arms.

'Feeling cold.'

'A little.'

'Here, take this.' Said Draco, handing over his jacket.

'Thanks.'

Hermione put the coat on and they carried on walking. Before long they were back at Headquarters, a couple of lights were on in some of the bedrooms on the second floor and a faint shadow of someone moving past, causing the light to flicker, could be seen. Gently pushing the vast cast iron gates open, they entered the grounds and carried on walking to the vast house that served as headquarters. By the time they had walked up the long drive, they had long since heard the doleful chimes of the church clock striking twelve. Tapping his wand three times on the door like _that_, Draco opened the way into headquarters and bid Hermione goodnight. She hurried up the stairs, not even looking back over her shoulder once. Draco, realising that he'd not arranged getting home with Noctifer went off to sleep an uncomfortable night on a sofa in the drawing room. As he entered the lounge the cold air hit him. Outside the wind was picking up and the noise was carrying down the chimney, out through the vast marble fire surround and filled the room, preventing Draco from falling asleep. Eventually he got used to it and nodded off. No sooner had this happened though, Draco felt that he was being woken up by an annoyingly awake and cheerful Harry.

'Morning Draco!'

'Already?'

'Yes.'

'Had a good night's sleep?'

'Yes, you?'

'It was awful.' Draco said, rubbing his bleary eyes. He slowly sat up and swung his legs round.

'Ow!'

'What's wrong?'

'Nothing important. I've just got a stiff neck, that's all. Slept awkwardly.'

'I'm not surprised. That's sofa's ridiculously short. Heck. I don't think that Kreacher'd be able to lay flat out on it. Well, maybe he would...'

'Who's Kreacher?'

'Oh. Kreacher's Sirius' house elf.'

'What's he like?'

'Oh, not too bad in his way. Absolute pure blood maniac though. I think that's why he doesn't like me.'

'Might be. Is anyone else up yet?'

'Don't think so. Ron's not exactly a morning person.

'You can say that again.

'And Hermione's still in bed. Must be that late night. And talking of late nights, how did it go?'

'Well, we spent time in London and then came home. Nothing special really, though it was pretty fun.'

'Glad you two had a good time. I didn't make much progress with Ron, but I think he sees why Hermione's annoyed with him now.'

'That's something at least.'

'Yeah, it is. Now it's up to him to decide what he wants.'

'You mean all this time and he hasn't decided?'

'I'm not sure he was aware he had to.'

'You're joking.'

'No, really.'

'Really?'

'Yeah.'

'Blimey.' Draco said, slightly surprised.

'Well, I'll let you get yourself together –then if you fancy breakfast I'm doing us sausage and eggs for breakfast.'

'You don't have to, you know.'

'Don't worry- I'd have done it anyway even if you weren't here. It isn't any trouble. Well. See you in a bit.' And with that Harry walked out, presumably to start making breakfast. Yawning, Draco rolled his arms over and burst into a great big stretch. That was better, now, time to put his shoes back on. Anything else to do? Nope, didn't look like it. Hang on, yes perhaps a few more buttons on his shirt wouldn't hurt. There, a nice smart-casual look. Time to head out for breakfast with harry. Actually, better flatten his hair a bit first. Draco licked his palms and ran them over his hair, desperately willing his unruly bed hair to lie flat. It was soon done and Draco meandered his way to breakfast though the many twist and turns that were the corridors of the magnificent building in which he had passed the night.

In the kitchen Draco found Harry frying the sausages and scrambling the eggs.

'Need a hand with anything?'

'No thanks, Draco. I've got everything under control. Although, come to think of it, if you want a drink or anything, you could make that.'

'Sure thing. You fancy anything yourself?'

'A pumpkin juice'd be grand, if you don't mind.'

'Not at all, you're doing me breakfast after all. It's the least I can do.'

'Thanks Draco.'

'Not at all.'

Before long Ron and Hermione had turned up downstairs, still in their pyjamas, even if they did have a dressing gown thrown over them.

'Had a good night, Hermione?' Draco asked.

'Not bad thanks, you?'

'Yeah, it wasn't too bad.'

'Where'd you sleep though, I guess you haven't been home.'

'Yeah, I haven't- I was on the couch in the drawing room.'

'That old thing!' I'm amazed you got any sleep at all.'

'So am I.' Draco said, to general amusement. Breakfast was soon ready and soon they had finished. Draco sent an owl to Noctifer to get picked up and before he knew it he was saying goodbye to his friends, who he would not see again until he boarded the Hogwarts express to return to school.


	44. Chapter 44

Despite enjoying the break from the usual heavy workload of reading, essays and schoolwork, Draco was looking forwards to going back to school. He hadn't seen his friends since Boxing Day, and as it was now early January, he was beginning to miss them. He arrived early at the station, but unsurprisingly given that Mr and Mrs Weasley were in charge of transportation, the others arrived only just on time. Almost as soon as Harry had shut the compartment door, the whistle blew and the train moved off. As Draco sat listening to the active conversation going on in the compartment, he wondered what Ron's choice would be. Would he go for Hermione? Or Lavender? Draco hoped for the latter desperately. Every day he found himself thinking of Hermione more and more often. He had no idea why, but every now and then she cropped up in his thoughts, gently smiling. It had begun to cause Draco some problems last term, as he was developing an unfortunate tendency to daydream. He'd nearly been so far out of it that he'd nearly blown himself up in potions, or at least he would have had Ron of all people not pointed out to him what a catastrophic error he was about to make and saved him from a trip to St Mungo's.

Bouncing off the carriages at the school's main doors, Draco was struck by the snow, suddenly remembering snowball fights long ago resolved and the fun he had once had playing in the snow. That was long ago though, now he hadn't time for such things. Now he had to concentrate on NEWTs and survival whilst not being distracted by such trifles as having a social life and keeping the few friends he had made over the years. What a fun term this was going to be.

There were at last a few things to look forwards to. Apparition lessons had begun in full swing. An elderly wizard who looked to Draco as though he'd have a limp handshake preoccupied them with the consideration of the '3 Ds'. Deliberation, Determination and Destination. Apparition it seemed was more akin to potions than it was to charms, as Draco had always supposed, in that it very much mattered more about your intentions than what you said or did. The first semi-successful apparition was performed by Lavender Brown who, competing with Hermione for Ron's attentions, had decided that smart was cool, and swiftly proceeded to move the five foot into her wooden ring, even if she had left the bottom half of her left leg behind. This was treated with nervousness at first, but when the instructor had put her back together again, a loud round of applause broke out throughout the hall. Draco joined in, even though he wasn't sure whether he was clapping Lavender for apparating, or the instructor for putting her back together again. Before long it was time for the apparition tests, but Draco found, to his bitter disappointment, that he was too young to take it. That afternoon in potions therefore, the usually bustling class was reduced to Harry, Ernie Macmillan and himself. Draco had been sure that Slughorn would cancel the lesson, but to his surprise, it went ahead anyway.

'So, you're too young to sit your tests, eh?'

'Yes, Sir.' They replied, gloomily.

'Well, don't worry about it. Don't imagine for one moment that everyone'll pass and start apparating everywhere. Most people take a couple of goes at it, particularly when they take it young. You'll have whole lot more practise than they will. But never mind. I'm babbling. What I want you to brew me today is something amusing.'

'What, Sir?' Ernie asked.

'Anything. It just has to be amusing. Well, you've not got long. Get going.'

Draco looked desperately through his book. What would work? Hmm, that looked interesting, what was it? A hallucination potion? Looks promising, thought Draco. Not particularly amusing, but it says in the notes that it can be combined with other potions to make a more specific hallucination. Now he'd just have to find the potion to make it amusing, and the final ingredient to synthesise the two together. As he flicked through the pages, Draco found himself wishing- not for the first time- that the book had been published with an index. Here we go, that looked more like it, an invigoration draught. Could it be done in the time available? Yes, it could- just about. Draco got cracking and before long had two cauldrons on the boil, keeping an eye on each one as it simmered gently and occasionally giving each a stir. Now, the synthesis ingredient. What could it be? Draco hadn't covered potions in arithmancy- it was barely touched upon in the subject, even though the theory of both Charms and Transfiguration was covered in some detail. That would be no good as an approach then. Well, he could try treating it as a Golpalott problem, that'd work. At that moment Slughorn came round.

'So, what're you doing here then Draco?'

'I'm trying to make a synthesis of an hallucination potion and an invigoration draught, Sir.'

'I wondered why you had two cauldrons out. That explains it. Going well?'

'Yes, thank you sir. I'm just trying to work out what the synthesis ingredient is. Can I treat it as a Golpalott problem?'

'Good thinking, a good idea, but no, I'm afraid that won't work. Golpalott's Third Law is a special case that only applies to poisons. I don't think that Summersby's synthetic conjecture is in your book, but that would tell you that, let me think, no, not that, but, yes. You'll need to add a dash or two of Bulbadox juice. You'll find some in my store-cupboard over there if you can't find any in your own.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

'Not at all, I've got a rather amusing idea for this if it works.'

'Sir?'

'Tace is latin for candle, Mr Malfoy.'

'Sir.'

Draco quickly headed to the student's store-cupboard. Not an ounce of bulbadox juice in sight. He'd have to go to Slughorn's. Oh well, better give the potions another stir quickly.

That done, Draco hurried to the store-cupboard, found the bulbadox juice and returned to his workbench, where he put three deliberate drops into the main potion, summoned up a thick pair of heatproof gloves and, putting them on, lifted the other cauldron off the heat and poured its contents into the first. Draco put the other cauldron down and began to stir his potion, which was changing colour to a deep nightmare purple as it thickened. Draco stirred three more times and then took the potion off the heat to let it cool. Satisfied with a job well done, Draco sat back down and relaxed, mere moments before Slughorn declared the brewing time to be over. Inwardly, Draco wondered whether Slughorn had been waiting for him to finish.

Ernie had made a hiccoughing solution that Slughorn deemed passable and Harry had made a euphoria solution with a Prince-inspired addition of peppermint, which Slughorn proclaimed to be genius. Draco's potion didn't get an instant roar of approval, or a tut of disappointment, but rather some frantic analysis involving some complicated wand movements that Draco didn't recognise as being part of any spell he knew.

'Well, it looks promising Draco, very promising indeed. We'd have to try it to know for sure, but I've got an excellent feeling about this. Pomona will be giving me tentacula leaves in no time.' Slughorn smiled at himself weakly at that, before continuing. 'Of course boys, you appreciate I didn't say that. Discretion is the better part of valour and all that.'

'Of course, Sir.'

The lesson ended and Draco walked out of the classroom, keen to get to lunch, but looking around he realised he'd left Harry behind. Turning round and heading back down the corridor, Draco went to see where he had gotten to. It turned out that Harry had been talking to Slughorn, making another attempt to get the memory out of him. Apparently Harry hadn't been successful, so it was with the weight of disappointment that they went to lunch.

'How are you going to get this memory out of him? You've been really unlucky, I mean, that last attempt should have worked, shouldn't it?'

'Yeah, you're right. I've been really unlucky. Hang on!'

'What do you mean, "hang on"?'

'I've got a small vial somewhere with my friend Felix in it.'

'Of course- why didn't we think of that earlier!'

'Maybe it's because I was hoping to save it.'

'For what, Harry? What's more important than this?'

'Yeah. You're right. When should I take it?'

'Well. You should probably set things as much in your favour as possible first. Do it this evening.'

'Why then?'

'Slughorn won't be teaching. He'll be out doing things. Things he shouldn't no doubt, given his comments about my potion, though I hope he was joking about that. And apart from that it seems the soonest that you can get away with it. That's what's needed isn't it?'

'Yeah. Oh! Hello Hermione. How are you? Test go well?'

'I passed.'

'Great.'

'Well, it was just a matter of remembering the three D's, wasn't it.'

'If you say so. Where's Ron?'

'Getting debriefed. It takes longer if you fail apparently.'

'He failed?'

'Yeah, left half his eyebrow behind and the clot didn't have enough sense to say he'd blown it off in a potions accident last week. They'd never have found him out if he had.'

'Shame. Oh well Harry, at least we'll have some company, eh?'

'You could say that. Doubt Ron'll be happy.'

'You could always knock him up _something amusing_, eh Harry?'

'Something amusing?' Hermione asked, confused.

'Yeah, Slughorn got us to brew up something amusing in potions earlier. I made a euphoria elixir.'

'How'd it go?'

'Nearly perfectly, thanks to a certain friend of mine.'

'Not that Prince person? Harry, I don't know why you can't see it. He's one seriously shifty feller.'

'Come on Hermione, you're just jealous I'm outdoing you in potions. Anyway,' said Harry, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, 'without the Prince, I'd never have won Felix. Ron'd have buggered up that quidditch match and I wouldn't have gotten that memory of Slughorn's.'

'You've got it?'

'Not yet, but I'm going to using the Felix tonight, aren't I?'

'Well, so long as you know what you're doing.'

When it was time to head out on his mission later, it was clear that Harry had no idea what the potion was doing with his body, he was just going along for the ride, lucking out as far as possible. It was hours until he returned to the common room.

'I did it.'

'What?' Draco asked, rising himself from the stupor of boredom he had been in since first Hermione and then Ron had headed to bed.

'I've got the memory.'

'Well done. Going to take it to Dumbledore then?'

'What now? It's gone midnight.'

'So- what's he going to do, give you detention for completing homework and helping to defeat the Dark Lord? Really?'

'Yeah, but it might not be Dumbledore who caught me- what if Snape did?'

'Come on Harry- you've never had much trouble evading people before- you went out in your cloak earlier, go out in it again now.'

'Oh yeah, forgot about that.'

'Long evening, was it?'

'Not half. First of all Aragog's funeral- Slughorn was there, and then the wake. Hagrid and Slughorn kept drinking and got completely rat-arsed. Of course, it probably helped that I was filling up the bottle.'

'And then he gave you the memory?'

'Yeah, that's the way it went.'

'Not very heroic is it? You need to get something off someone, so you do it by taking advantage of them after you've gotten them drunk.'

'Don't care. Sod heroic, I just want the job to actually be done.'

'S'pose so. Well, are you going now? Want me to wait up?'

'Nah, it's all right. Get some shut-eye, I'll see you in the morning.'

'Good luck.'

Draco headed up to the dorm, got into his pyjamas and laid down on his bed. He couldn't sleep though. In his mind he turned over what he knew over and over again, guessing what Slughorn's memory might contain and trying to put together the picture that Harry had relayed to him. What could it all mean? In the end, Draco drifted into an uneasy sleep, filled with dreams of insane dark wizards cackling whilst doing handstands in fluffy pink tutus. In the morning Draco scarcely remembered it, but what he did remember, he did his best to forget. That had been a weird dream.


	45. Chapter 45

It wasn't until the first lesson of the day, transfiguration, that Draco saw Harry again. He looked tired, as if he had been up late last night- later than even Draco had been. Despite, or perhaps more likely because, not having been to breakfast, Harry had arrived at Transfiguration considerably earlier than Draco and he was sitting down in his favourite spot in the classroom. Draco walked over and sat down next to him.

'Well, how are you?' Draco asked. 'Got back late last night?'

'Not so much last night as early this morning.'

'Wow. What went on?'

'Oh, nothing particular- just me and Dumbledore in his office- he was showing me the memory I'd gotten from Sluggers.'

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah. I don't think I've ever seen him quite so downhearted in all my life.'

'Dumbledore? Downhearted?'

'Yeah, I know. Not good, is it.'

'What can you tell me.'

'Nothing good. He's got six Horcruxes.'

'Six.' Draco mouthed quietly, appalled.

'Well, not any more. You remember me telling you how Dumbledore got his hand all black?'

'Yeah, well, that was one down, and that diary we found in second year was another.'

'Only four then. That's good.'

At that point McGonagall walked in. Draco and Harry immediately stopped their conversation with a quick glance to mean _we'll carry this on later_ and started to pay attention to McGonagall. Today they were beginning human transfiguration, and they were practising on themselves. Draco couldn't remember ever having done something so difficult. Ron had given himself a great big handlebar moustache which had made Hermione giggle hard enough that she'd had to stop everything she was doing. In the end Ron had had enough of her laughing and had tried to give her a matching moustache. That had failed miserably, and in the end Hermione ended up with a pair of eyebrows that would have looked more at home on an eighty year old man than a young woman. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Hermione was feeling, as Draco later described it to Professor Dumbledore, a bit put out and decided to respond in kind. Before anyone knew what had happened, a transfiguration duel was going on in the middle of the classroom, certainly a relatively safe one, with each participant just trying to make the other hairier, but a duel nonetheless. McGonagall stood aghast. This had never happened in her classroom in all her long years of teaching. Never! And for Hermione Granger to be the one who had started it, well, she'd never seen that one coming. Everyone had stopped to watch as McGonagall tried to put a stop to it, before being hit by a stray spell from Hermione herself. As McGonagall sprouted a particularly fine goatee, Draco gestured to Harry and the two of them took cover under the desk. Unlike the rest of the members of that class, they knew from the DA what a problem Hermione could be to calm down once she had started duelling in earnest. The best thing, they had soon learnt, was to take cover and make sure you didn't get hit by any stray spells.

'Well, this is cosy, isn't it?' Harry commented once they had squeezed themselves under the desk.

'Just a little. Shame we're not short isn't it?' Draco said, knowing that at 6'4" the lack of space was at least half due to himself.

'You said it.' Said Harry.

'You said there were four Horcruxes left.' Draco continued in a low whisper. Not that that mattered with Ron and Hermione now apparently engaged in a three way duel with McGonagall, who was desperately trying to stop the chaos that had been set loose.

'Yeah, Dumbledore reckons that they're going to be things like, well, relics of the founders, you know?'

'Oh?'

'Yeah, and his snake's probably another.'

'So, do we know where any of these relics are?'

'No, but he has told me what he thinks they are.'

'Go on.'

'One's some cup of Hufflepuff's, another's a diadem or something that belonged to Ravenclaw. Finally some locket or other of Slytherin's. That last one's the most likely.'

'Why's that?'

'Well, it belonged to Voldemort's mother. She sold it before he was born, and we know that he saw it before he declared himself. Not long after that, the witch who had it was found dead and Tom Riddle dropped off the face of the earth.'

'Do you know what it looked like?'

'Yeah, it's a great big heavy thing, with a massive S engraved on it.'

'With emeralds for eyes and a tongue thing- looks a bit like a snake?'

'How did you know?'

'I've seen it before.'

'Really? When?'

'Ages ago now. When was it? When was it?'

'Your memory, what are you asking me for?'

'I don't know. Hang on. It's my _memory_ isn't it?'

'Yeah? And?'

'Well, you've been looking at memories, haven't you?'

'Yeah?' Harry said inquisitively.

'Well, Why don't we go and see Dumbledore about it, then he can get the memory out of me and we can get another one of these things crossed off the list.'

'Brilliant. Should we go now?'

'Why not? I mean- it's not as if we're going to be missed here, is it?'

As the desk they were sheltering under started to grow fur, they decided that it might be best not to stay where they were. Desperately hoping they wouldn't get hit by the stray spells of what was now a whole class brawl, they slipped out of the back and headed up the many staircases that led, eventually, to the Headmaster's office. The two gargoyles guarding the office challenged them and for a moment Draco thought that this would be the abysmal end of their mission. Then Harry said the password (chocolates limes) and the slid back to reveal an impressive spiral staircase that led to the office. Harry knocked on the door three times.

'One moment.' Came the voice form inside. The door opened and Professor Trelawney stepped out.

'Harry! Ah so it is for you that I am unceremoniously thrown from the chambers within! I should take my talents to somewhere where they are more appreciated.'

Throwing Harry a look asking what that was all about, Draco headed into the office, confused.

'Ah Harry, Draco! Shouldn't you two be in lessons now?'

'Sort of, Sir.'

'Sort of?'

'Well, we've just come from Transfiguration.'

'And Minerva let you out? No. What's happened, boys? Why are you here.'

'Well, Sir.' Harry began. 'We were talking under the desk in transfiguration about last night and Draco said he'd seen the locket-horcrux before.'

'You have had you?' Dumbledore asked, his attention instantly snapping to Draco.

'I think so Sir. I've got a sort of memory of it, but I can't place it. I was wondering whether you could use your memory machine thingy to, you know, have a look at it?'

'Well, I suppose that would certainly be possible. Do you want to do it now?'

'If you please, Sir.'

'Very well then, Draco, just think of the memory as fully as you can. Then I'll do my bit, and we'll see the results.'

Draco screwed up his eyes and tried to think of the memory. Then a strange feeling filled his mind, a s if something was going over the memory and everything around it and taking notes. The strange sensation ended as soon as it had begun. Draco opened his eyes.

'Is that it?' He asked, noticing a silvery, floaty thing on the end of Dumbledore's wand.

'That is it. Let's hope it can give us something worthwhile.' Said Dumbledore, dunking the end of his wand into a strange dish, which was laid out on his desk.

'Well, take a seat, Harry, if you squiddle over to one side slightly, we can draw up another chair for Draco to have a peak too. It's only fair; after all, it is his memory.'

Sticking his head into the silvery liquid inside the runed dish, Draco felt very strange. That was him over there, doing something- tidying! Harry's eyes were wide open.

'This is Grimmauld Place!'He said to Dumbledore.

'Apparently so. Some luck there then. But let's see where the locket actually is first.' They carried on watching the memory. A vision of Sirius came into view, and the younger Draco asked in an embarrassingly high pitched voice what he should do with _this_, holding the locket in his hand.

'Just throw it away.' The memory-Sirius replied. Draco's past self did just that, lobbing it in the sack. What did they do with that sack? The memory faded to blackness and the three men looked at each other in a stunned silence. They'd had it and they'd thrown it away. Bugger.

'Do either of you remember what was done with those sacks?'

'Didn't Sirius throw them out into the garden?'

'I think so- I've never been out there, he doesn't ever go out there. I don't either come to mention it. It may still be there.'

'Yes, well, at any rate, I believe that Grimmauld Place will be the right spot to start any search. I think you two are about to go on a school trip. I'll need to get your head of house's approval first though.'

'But you're the headmaster.'

'True, but there is such a thing as doing things properly. Do you know where she is?'

'Probably in her classroom.'

'Well, come on then, let's pay her a visit.'

They walked along behind Dumbledore, easily able to keep up with him, and followed him down to the Transfiguration classroom. Dumbledore opened the door to find the fight still raging. He looked back at Harry and Draco, raising his eyebrows.

'Would you care to explain?'

'Not particularly, Sir. But if you must, we were doing human transfiguration. Ron gave himself a whacking great big handlebar moustache and Hermione started to laugh. Ron tried to give Hermione something, and ended up giving her crazy eyebrows. Hermione didn't take too kindly to that and the rest is history.'

'I see. Well. I suppose I'd better do something about this.'

'STOP!' Dumbledore bellowed, releasing three loud explosions from his wand in quick succession. Stunned by the noise, everyone in the classroom turned round silently to face the door.

'Professor Dumbledore.'

'Minerva. I understand that you've been practising human transfiguration. I suppose that is why your entire class seems to have the most luxurious beards I have seen in quite some time. Your own is particularly fetching. Five points to whoever cast that spell on Professor McGonagall.'

Sheepishly, Ron stuck his hand up.

'It was me, sir.'

'Well done, Mr Weasley, an excellent spell, although looking at the results, I'd advise you to reduce the amount of flick in your wand movement- the beard is just a trifle curly. Of course, that is a matter of taste rather than anything else. Anyway. Minerva, I feel like arranging an impromptu school trip with certain members of your house. I take it I have your permission.'

'Of course, Albus.'

'Thank you. That beard rather suits you by the way.'

'I'll see you later Albus. Now as for the rest of you, I suppose that some of you will need to learn how to cast shaving spells.'

Draco didn't hear the rest of the lesson as he found himself being apparated by Dumbledore to Harry's. Harry knocked on the door three times. Eventually, the door was answered by a small house elf.

'Kreacher! How are you.'

'The young master must not bring half blood scum home.'

'What delightful manners. Reminds me of my maternal grandmother.'

'I didn't know you'd met her.'

'She died when I was very young, but she's not the sort of person you'd ever forget if you met her. I mean, if you think Sirius' mother was bad, she was nothing to her sister in law.'

'Well, shall we get looking?'

'What does the master want?' Kreacher asked Draco.

'Well Kreacher, you remember the tidying that happened about what three-four years ago?'

'When Master Sirius returned?'

'That's it. Well, do you remember we threw out a great big locket. A silver thing. It had a snake on it.'

'Yes, Master.'

'Do you know where it is?'

'Yes, Master.'

'Could you get it for us?'

'Of course, young master!' The elf disappeared.

'How did you do that?' Harry asked. 'I've never seen him be so polite to anyone.'

'Well, it helps if you treat them with respect, I've always found. The occasional please thank-you and so on, most of all treating them like they're intelligent beings, always works.'

The elf reappeared.

'Ahh, Kreacher, is that it?'

'I think so.'

'Well, Sir. What can we do about it?'

'It needs to be destroyed, put beyond the point where magical repair is possible.'

'Destroy it, Sir?' Kreacher asked.

'Yes. To destroy the evil within.'

Kreacher handed over the locket with tears in his eyes.

'Thank you , Sir. Make sure it is destroyed , Sir.'

'I will, thank you Kreacher. You've been very helpful. Anything you want to pick up while you're here, Harry?' Dumbledore asked.

'No, that's it. I'm a bit surprised Sirius wasn't in, but I suppose he wasn't expecting us.'

'Very well. Time to destroy this then. Grab hold. We're heading back to school.'

Before long, the three of them were back in Dumbledore's study.

'Now, there's a couple of ways of actually destroying ahorcrux, the most convenient of which is fiendfyre- a nasty thing that I positively forbid you from practising at school. Now, another thing is basilisk venom.'

'So you want us to go down to the Chamber of Secrets, Sir?'

'No, we could do, but fortunately, when you were last there, you used a certain item, a certain item made of goblin silver.'

'What's that, Sir?' Harry asked.

'Gryffindor's sword. Goblin made silver has several unique properties, chief among which is that it only absorbs that which makes it strong. Now, certainly this is good in that it means it never needs cleaning, but there is also the fact that this particular sword has absorbed basilisk venom, turning it from an over-sized letter opener into something rather useful. All we need to do is apply the sword thus, and the horcrux will be destroyed.'

Dumbledore pushed the point down onto the locket, which wasn't even scratched by the experience.

'Ah. Well. A small problem there. It seems the outside doesn't do what we need it to, probabl best to open it up and see what we can do.'

First Dumbledore, then Draco struggled to pull the locket open before giving up.

'Another hitch. Any ideas?'

'Well, this is Slytherin's locket, right?'

'Yeah.' Said Harry, 'obviously.'

'So, if that's the case, the only other thing of his that's known to open up is somewhat bigger and is based in a girl's lavatory in this castle.' Draco said.

'You mean I should try parseltongue?'

'Worth a shot, isn't it?'

'Carry on, Harry.'

Harry made a strange hissing sound. Draco had heard that one before. Suddenly, the snake onthe locket squirmed and the locket burst open, revealing a hideous sight within. A dark grey smoke billowed forth and was beginning to form recognisable shapes when Dumbledore swung the blade at it. It cracked instantly and the smoked vanished with a howling sound that sent shivers up and down Draco's spine.

'Well done boys, that's that dealt with. All in all, one of our better mornings, even if I say so myself. Well, off to lessons with you. Oh. And Harry, you might wish to do something about your yellow eyebrow. I assume it was a transfiguration accident rather than a fashion statement.'

'Thanks Sir.'

They left the office and shut the door behind them as they went.

'Well that was fun.' Said Draco.'

'I suppose so, but why didn't you tell me I'd bleached my eyebrow?'

'I figured you'd notice, given enough time. At any rate, it's easy to correct.'

'You wouldn't mind doing it, would you? Only I'm not too confident and I don't want it to drop off or something.'

'Sure thing.' Draco waved his wand, and Harry's eyebrow returned to its usual state.


	46. Chapter 46

Draco was finding himself more glad than ever that he wasn't taking any important exams this year- every day he was finding more and more demands on his time, not least of which was training both the Gryffindor and School cricket teams. It wouldn't be long 'til he had to have a team together to face the Old Hogwartians in Dumbledore's long-planned memorial match. Slowly but surely he had found out who he wanted to select and had gotten his squad of fourteen ready. There wasn't a single one amongst them who wasn't in some small way invaluable on the field, be that with the bat, ball or simply as a fielder par excellence. This team was looking to be the best one Draco had ever played in, and everyone was dedicated to their sport, even if some house rivalry had entered into it, making the captain's job of keeping harmony in the dressing room ever harder. It was as a relief therefore, that the school holidays came. With them came an end to endless essays and charts, an end to eternal reading and above all, a chance to get away from it all. He might not be going home this holiday- Noctifer had written and explained that he would be on a job for all of the Easter break- but he would be enjoying himself. IT wouldn't only be him stuck at school- Harry had decided to stay and whilst Ron and Hermione were, much to Draco's well-hidden disappointment, spending the break at the Burrow.

The school had emptied itself of all those who were going home, leaving a small knot of teachers and a tinier handful of pupils left. Suddenly the castle, which during term time felt like it was buzzing with youthful excitement now felt like it was an empty and lonely place. Footsteps that ordinarily could not be heard boomed down corridors like vast drums beating out in time to the fall of feet, to be heard by ears on different floors. The quiet snores of portraits could be heard all over the castle as what little noise there was, was magnified hugely by the overwhelming silence that filled the great building and the rooms, kept warm by the people who usually inhabited them, began to cool, leaving behind a smell of damp and old whitewash that Draco couldn't ever quite get rid of. It seemed that the school was virtually deserted – apart from Harry and Draco and a couple of Hufflepuff first years there were only teachers left in the castle. This did come with its benefits, as at meal times they got to eat at the high table, the house tables having been taken away for cleaning, polishing and repairs after a term of considerably heavy use.

To stay warm and to avoid the silence Draco spent most of his time in the library, which unlike the corridors and empty classrooms was kept heated in the holidays, to prevent damage to the books. Draco sat there, reading anything that looked vaguely interesting. The stack of books he'd read grew by the day and soon was forming a wall on the table in front of him that was tall enough and wide enough that he couldn't see anything ahead of him except books he'd read. Draco was reading through books quicker than he ever had done, perhaps it was all the practise he'd been getting on dull textbooks meant he could read the enjoyable books at three times the speed that he'd used to. Or maybe not. At any rate the pile of books stopped him seeing anything, such as Madame Pince's visitations from Filch- which he was glad not to see- and Harry coming to see him- which caught him totally by surprise.

'Hi draco.'

'Oh! Hello Harry, didn't see you coming there.'

'I'm not surprised with all those books- you turning into Hermione or something?'

'I hope not, I've gotten quite fond of this body, I've got it set up just how I like it.' Draco responded drily.

'You know our exploding snap tournament?'

'Of course.'

'Well, I'm going to have to let you down this evening. Dumbledore wants me to go with him on another thingy.'

'No problem. Anything I can do to help?'

'Don't think so, Dumbledore said something about not wanting too many people when I asked him.'

'Don't worry about it. When you leaving? Any idea when you're getting back?'

'Well, we're leaving an hour after dinner, something about not wanting to get wet with a full stomach. No idea when we're getting back. When it's done, I suppose.'

'Well, I'll see you when you get back. I might well still be in here, after all, I'm not sure Pince can spot me behind this book-fort, she seemed to forget about me yesterday- I had to let myself out.'

'So that's why you were so late.'

'Yeah, it was.'

Harry stood there for what felt like an age as an awkward silence fell between them.

'Well, I'd best go and get ready. See you at dinner?'

'See you then.' Said Draco. He waited for Harry to leave before glancing at his watch. Ten minutes to go until dinner was going to start. Enough time to finish off the chapter perhaps? No, best not, Draco felt sure that if he started reading he'd carry on until he'd finished the book or possibly even the next one. No, best head down to dinner now.

Leaving _The Magic of Muggles_ behind him on the desk, Draco picked himself up off the chair and headed down to dinner, rearranging his clothes as he went so as to look a little less scruffy and a lot more respectable. It would never do to be scruffy, particularly if he was having dinner at high table again. Before long he was taking his seat next to Harry at dinner, right opposite Albus Dumbledore himself.

'Evening , sir.'

'Good evening, Draco. I trust you are well.'

'Yes, Sir, I am, thank-you for asking.'

'That is good. Dinner looks good, doesn't it?'

'Yes, Sir.' Draco said politely. As much as he liked it this was the third time they'd had Ham, Egg and Chips for dinner this week and Draco was beginning to suspect that this wasn't due to a lack of available food in the school pantries.

'So, Harry.' Dumbledore asked, turning his attention away from Draco, 'Are you ready for this evening?'

'Yes, Sir.'

'Good. Don't forget your cloak, it may prove useful.'

Draco had soon finished and as soon as he thought it socially acceptable, he made his excuses and left the table.

'Draco.' Dumbledore called as he was halfway across the hall, 'You couldn't deliver this to Professor Snape, could you? He should be in his office.' Draco was handed a tightly bounded scroll, sealed with wax. Great, just what he wanted, to spend more time with Severus Snape, the one man who seemed to hate him more than his father did. Mind you, that wasn't personal, Snape seemed to hate all students, particularly those in Gryffindor, it wasn't as if there was any fundamental dislike there, it was probably just dislike on a matter of principle.

Working his way down to the dungeons where Snape's office had remained, Draco felt shivers racing down his spine. The dungeons were even colder than the rest of the castle. For the first time in his life, Draco thought that he was glad he hadn't been sorted into Slytherin for reasons that didn't involve his friends- it was perishing down here! Draco arrived at Snape's office and knocked on the door three times.

'Come in.' The voice inside said. Nervously, he opened the door and stepped in.

'Professor Dumbledore asked me to give you this, Sir.'

'Thank you , Mr Malfoy.' Snape seemed to spit at him, as if the Malfoy name was nothing more than an unpleasantness that was stuck on the bottom of his shoe. The seal was broken and Snape began to read the letter, Draco turned his back to go, his job done, when suddenly:

'Wait there!' Snape barked.

'Sir?'

'The headmaster has written me this little note. It seems that you know far more than he intended about the Dark Lord's secrets. It would be most detrimental to the cause, he says, were you to be found and the information _extracted _from you.' Snape seemed to relish the thought of the information being extracted as he rolled his tongue over the word for far longer than seemed natural.

'It seems that I am to attempt to teach you the highly useful art of occlumency. I only hope that you pay more attention than your friend Potter.' There was no doubt about it, Snape definitely spat that name out.

'Okay, Sir. I'm ready to start when you are.'

'You want to start now? Well, I suppose I should be grateful that you are showing some enthusiasm. It won't last. I suppose you want to know about the theory? Well, all you need to know is this –It is designed to protect the user against legilimency, the reading of minds, now, the mind is not like a book, but a complex and many layered thing. The trick is to suppress all emotion, all feelings deep, for they let the accomplished legilimens slip through the layers of the mind with greater ease than you could possibly imagine. A true occlumens can not only prevent their mind being. _interpreted._ but also show false thoughts, to let the legilimens think that he is seeing what he wants to see, when in fact he isn't. That however takes many long months of practise, months I suspect that we do not have. You will perhaps get to the stage of being a passable occlumens, able to contain the invading mind and trap it, to keep it from being able to see what it wants. Compartmentalisation is key. Do you think you have understood me?'

'I think so, Sir.'

'Good. Then it is time to test it. _legilio!_' Snape cried, pointing an unexpected wand straight at Draco. Suddenly Draco felt an unwelcome presence in his mind. Resisting the urge to panic, Draco tried to work out what Snape was after. No. He wasn't going there. That was family and that was private. Draco sent Snape images of the book he had been reading that afternoon, hoping that the forceful direction of memories would prevent Snape from proceeding any further. For a moment Snape's advance halted, but then the presence seemed to disappear from the eye of the storm of memories. Had it gone? Draco let the images of today's book go, only to find that Snape was still in his head. Nothing seemed to stop him this time, bringing the book back didn't help, nor did yesterday's book. No, that trick would only apparently work once.

Draco took three deep breaths and relaxed. He had to stop Snape getting in, which would mean preparing barriers, blockades. That meant giving up some of his mind to give himself time to prepare. Yes, that would be the bait. Draco opened up his thoughts about Hermione, something that should be juicy enough to tempt Snape away from the area he was currently investigating. It worked! Draco desperately tried to erect some barriers and sure enough, by the time Snape had lost interest in Draco's thoughts on Hermione, he came back to Draco's family, only to find that this time, he would have to work harder to get in. Suddenly Draco, exhausted by the struggle, felt the presence withdraw.

'Very good. You learnt how to erect barriers. Not very effective ones, but that will improve with practise. The distraction technique was also quite effective, but it would not put off an experienced and truly determined legilimens – only your mental barriers can do that. You do however need to bring them up faster- if you don't have them working the whole time then it can make your mind very vulnerable if you can't raise them at the first sign that someone is attacking your mind. Looking at the time I think we have enough time for another go tonight, if you feel that you are up to it.' Snape said.

'Alright, Sir. I think I'm ready.'

'Good. _Legilio_.'

Once more Draco felt Snape's presence enter his mind. This time he tried to raise his barriers immediately. Soon his mind was full of the things. That was better, Snape hadn't even had time to look at anything before Draco had isolated his presence, much more like how it was supposed to go. Draco maintained the barriers in his mind and sat in his chair, waiting for Snape to leave. The former potions master didn't leave however, but sat there, lurking in his mind. What was this about? Draco decided that it would be a good thing to make stronger barriers- the ones that were in place had already been described as weak by Snape. Not a good thing, all things said and done. Well, if he just did _that_, it should help, shouldn't it? Draco's attention flitted away from the presence in his mind and suddenly Snape attacked, he began tearing down the barriers, one by one, piece by piece, with all the surety of a river washing away a dam made of loose sand. At first, there were only small leaks, with individual barriers slowly disappearing, which Draco soon replaced with others, but before long, all of his barriers were tumbling at once. This wasn't what was supposed to happen, it simply wasn't. Somehow, Draco knew he had to get his teacher's essence out of his head. What if he used the barriers as a movable shield, corralling Snape ever closer to the exit of his mind, wherever that was. Draco erected a set of strong barriers around Snape, and slowly began to move them. Then, Snape withdrew from his mind and the world came back into focus.

'Trying to force me out, Mr Malfoy? Very well done. That is the next step, first you have to contain the invading mind, then eject it from your own. You seem to have understood the basic principles of occlumency, I am surprised. That was quick, however much more practise will be required before you are in any way competent at it. I propose that we have daily meetings over the holiday, and then reduce it to weekly in term time. Any questions?'

'Just one, Sir. What are you going to do with all the thoughts that you see when you're in here.' Draco said, tapping twice on the side of his head.

'Absolutely nothing Mr Malfoy, although, judging by what I have seen, perhaps Romeo would be more appropriate.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

'Very well, you should head back to your common room, we have been here for longer than you have perhaps realised.'

Draco looked down at his watch. It really was getting late- the hours had flown by in this underground chamber where no hint of natural light ever reached.

'How long did that take, Sir? Really?'

'Several hours Mr Malfoy. It is amazing how the mind can play tricks when it is fully occupied, particularly as regards the passage of time.'

'Good night, Sir.' Said Draco, out of good manners and a sense of duty.

'Good night, Mr Malfoy.' Came the begrudging reply.

At the moment there was an urgent knock on the door. Draco opened it on his way out only to find an out-of-breath Harry leaning on the doorframe.

'Sir, Professor Dumbledore wants you. He said, to come, quickly.' Harry forced out between pants. He had clearly run all the way to the office.

'Where is he?'

'His office, sir.'

'Very well. You two had better come too.'

Snape set off at a fast trot, slow enough to be dignified, yet still fast enough that Draco and Harry had to run to keep up. At that moment the rogue thought crossed Draco's mind that Snape was really a lot younger than Dumbledore, but that nonetheless, he shouldn't have to try to keep up. Perhaps, he thought, some more fitness training would be in order if he was to do well at the cricket.

Draco was sure of that when he arrived at Dumbledore's office, completely out of breath whereas Snape didn't seem to have even raised a sweat. There was something unnatural about that man,. Draco thought.

'Severus.' Dumbledore croaked, 'Potion. Terrible potion. I drank it. Drank it all. We got it, but...' Dumbledore fell silent, the effort of speech too much for him.

Immediately Snape took control of the situation, whipping out his wand and waving it about. Draco thought that some cushions might help keep Dumbledore more comfortable, and getting his own wand out, he materialised some rather large ones right next to Dumbledore. Kneeling down, he lifted the upper body of the old man forwards, gesturing to Harry to stick the cushions behind him, to make him more comfortable. Snape had finished his muttering and with a flick of his wrist, what looked like a full potions laboratory emerged from a small box that at in the corner of the office. The fire under the central cauldron sprang into life, and its sheen and colour suggested to Draco that this was not the bog-standard pewter that they used on an everyday basis, but rather the superior bronze cauldrons that they were not allowed to use. Snape stepped up to it and with one tap of his wand the racks of ingredients closed in around him. Draco could barely make out what Snape was doing, and even his mutterings gave no clue about what was going on. Slowly but surely he brewed a potion from the ingredients, a potion which was more complicated than anything Draco had ever heard of, let alone brewed himself. Snape clearly knew what he was about- he had what amounted to an almost divinely inspired talent for potion brewing, and now Draco realised why he had been stuck in that job for so long, even though he wanted the Dark Arts post. He was so good at it. He had all these little tricks nailed down, like squashing sophorous beans to release the juices- that was something that was scribbled in Harry's old textbook. Perhaps Snape had known about it. After all, there had to be some reason for the same techniques cropping up. Indeed, in many ways, Snape was using all the little tricks Draco had remembered from the Prince's book.

Soon the potion was bubbling away nicely and Snape once more tapped the ingredients rack to free himself from their convenient embrace.

'Nearly there, Albus, hang on.'

Dumbledore made no noise at all, but merely rolled over to one side, all colour gone from his face. Soon though, the potion had cooled sufficiently that it could be drunk and after one final sniff, Snape handed over a small mug of the thick, golden liquid to Dumbledore. Slowly, the colour began to return to his face, and as he finished, he put down the mug, now horribly stained by the golden liquid, and pulled himself to a more upright position.

'Thank you, Severus. Now, Harry. Do you still have it with you? Let's have a look at it.'

Harry pulled out the horcrux they had been out for. Draco recognised it instantly.

'Hang on! We've done that one already!' Draco exclaimed, looking at the locket Harry was holding in his hand. Dumbledore grabbed it and opened it.

'A fake! What does that note say?'

Harry opened the note and began to read out loud.

'To the Dark Lord,

I know I'll be dead before you read this, but I want you to know...I discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it blah blah so that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. RAB.'

'Rab?' Dumbledore asked.

'It's the initials at the bottom of the page, Sir.'

'Well I never, so that's what happened to him.'

'Who , Sir?'

'You are no doubt aware that Sirius had a brother.'

'Yes, Sir. His room's all Slytherin green and stuff.'

'I imagine so. Well, I expect Sirius has told you how his brother joined the Death Eaters? Well, it would seem that somehow he found out about the locket and took it home to be destroyed, before he went missing. That's where we found it after all. It would seem that the time has come to rewrite the history books on the matter of Regulus Black. It would appear that, somehow, he also got to know of the horcruxes. I wonder if he managed to get any more before he died?'

'We couldn't possibly know, Albus.' Snape said earnestly.

'I suppose so. Well, I believe that I should get some rest. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight.'

The three walked from Dumbledore's office in near complete silence, all that could be heard was the fall of their feet, but at the bottom of the stairs, Draco asked a question.

'Sir? Have you ever heard of the Half-Blood Prince?'

Snape appeared slightly shocked at the question, but did , eventually answer.

'Yes, he was in my year at school. By a long way the most talented potions student in my year. Why do you ask?'

'I've got his old textbook.' Harry replied.

'I see. Well, the Prince had a bit of a taste for the Dark Arts, I'd advise you not to use any of the spells contained within that book. They are liable to be a trifle _nasty_.' Snape said, putting deliberate emphasis on the final word.

'Thank you for the warning, Sir. Good night.' Harry said – they had reached the main staircase and would be heading in different directions, Harry and Draco would be going up to bed, whereas Snape was apparently returning to his office. Before long, Harry and Draco were tucked up in their beds and Harry was telling Draco all about the adventure that he had just had.


	47. Chapter 47

It wasn't long before the next term started, and as had been long planned, Dumbledore's memorial cricket match was due to be played. Draco had selected a crack team from the entirety of the school, he was opening the batting with Blaise Zabini and was looking forward to putting on a big partnership with the Slytherin captain. As usual the match commentary would be broadcast throughout the school and the whole school was excited about the match, which would be the first five day game played at Hogwarts. Lee Jordan was coming back to captain the visiting team of Old Hogwartians, which contained many of the members of the team Draco had played with when he first joined. All of this added to the excitement- would the Weasley twins be indulging in any japes whilst they visiting? No-one knew, not even the commentary team, who were lead, as per usual, by Albus Dumbledore himself.

'Well, hello to all of you listening there, whether you have come to the pitch or not, it is a great honour to be able to welcome you to the first Dumbledore memorial match. The captains are standing in the middle with our independent umpires, freshly arrived from India, Messrs Ganguli and Felsinger. We are very grateful to them for making the trip and I hope that they will enjoy their time here as much as we will. In the centre of the pitch we have Professor McGonagall listening to the toss, and we're going to join her now.'

'Thank you, Dumbles, Jordan has called heads as Mr Ganguli tosses the coin. It comes down tails. Draco, what are you going to do?'

'We're going to bowl.'

'There we go, The home team has won the toss and elected to bowl, so I'll hand you back to the commentary box for the beginning of the match.'

'Thank you McGonners. So, Filchers, what do you think of Malfoy's decision to bowl first.'

'Well, it's not what I'd've done myself. The pitch is very dry and flat, a very good batting surface and there's only one way it can go. I'm not saying that the pitch is going to deteriorate significantly- we just don't know- but if it does, than batting on the last day is not going to be nice. On the other hand, if they bowl the Old Hogwartians out quickly, then there's a good chance that they can build a large first innings lead over the visitors, who lack spin options for when the ball gets old. Then again, George Weasley was a demon spin bowler when he was here. I don't know what his figures are, but presumably that's on for Veckers and her record books.'

'Yes, quite right, and with such batsmen as Harry Sidcup and John Dale returning after a good fifteen years the away team have quite a lot of experience and power in their lower middle order. And here we go, the umpires come out again, followed by the batsmen and then at last the home team take the field to a large cheer. Colin Creevey is coming in to open the bowling and bowls a true ball, good length, straight to Percy Weasley who deflects the ball of his pads to mid on. Zabini is there to pick up the ball and there is no run. Creevey comes in again, bowls and Percy tries to deflect that round the corner at it is easily fielded on the ground by first slip. It really is looking like a good opportunity to score and Creevey bowls again. Weasley pushes it back to the bowler and once more there is no run.'

'It really is just a matter of waiting to score runs, I'm sure it will happen soon.'

'Absolutely, and talking of waiting, McGonners and Sluggers are waiting in the wings to take over, so after a quick word form Argus, it will be over to Minerva.'

'Thank you Albus, it really is a brilliant day to play cricket and Weasley plays that away of his body to square leg for a sneaky single. That ball also marks the end of the over, so Percy Weasley has retained the strike.'

'Yes, and now Captain Malfoy has lobbed the ball to Colin Creevey's younger brother Dennis to open the attack from the other end. He's up to the wicket now And there's an appeal for a hit on the pads! Is that out? No. He got a good step forward and umpire Felsinger has given it not out. That looked very close. Very close indeed. Another ball and Percy Weasley has taken yet another streaky single. The score now 2 for no wicket. Fred Weasley comes on strike, batting with his older brother. He takes guard and prepares to face the next ball. Creevey minor has come up to bowl, we should call him Creevey minor, don't you think, Sluggers?'

'We have to call him something to distinguish him from his brother. Giving him the addition of minor seems like the best way.'

'Yes, and it's Creevey minor once more past Umpire Felsinger and bowls, Fred Weasley pushes the ball down the pitch to the bowler and this is going rather nicely for the away team, after surviving a close call, they seemed to have calmed any nerves they might have had and that ball has caught the edge but goes safely along the ground to the boundary for four. That ball marks the end of another over and Creevey Major come forward to take a bowl from the other end. Creevey comes in and that's looking like a devilish ball to play, just a small bit of swing on it, which is looking promising for later on, as it really is quite unusual to get any movement on the ball this early. But the ball goes straight past the batsman who has left it, right into Finch Fletchley's gloves. That was a nice piece of glovework, but you'd expect no less from Finch-Fletchley, who had been the Hufflepuff keeper for three years now. Creevey Major comes in again and THAT'S GONE! The finest of fine edges has been caught by the keeper and Mr Ganguli has raised his finger. No doubt about it, Percy Weasley is out, a shame because when he gets into full swing he can be a dangerous batsman, but it seems he was never really in and he's been bowled for two, bringing the total score to 2 for 1. A shaky start for the Old Hogwartians and now Paul Barry has come into bat. Barry left Slytherin seven years ago now and led his team to victory four times, mainly on the strength of his batting. He's not an aggressive batsmen, but he will hang around all day if he's allowed to and rare is the match in which he doesn't get a half century at least.'

Frustratingly for Draco, this wasn't a rare match and by lunch the visitors had put on 82 for 1 and were showing no sign of breaking. Sitting down in the dressing room, Draco sat and tried to think up a plan. Nothing was coming immediately and as he went to lunch in the great Hall- a splendid affair of a full roast dinner for both sides- he struggled to think of all the little tricks he'd seen others do when he'd been captained by others. The Creevey brothers were still insisting they were good to go, but it had been a busy morning session, so perhaps a change of bowling was in order. That seemed like a good idea to Draco, as fresh bowlers could often cause the batsman a bit of trouble as they bowled slightly differently. Draco didn't think it was worth going for the spin option yet- as good as Padma was, there was no help in the pitch for the spinner yet and playing her would just be inviting Fred or Barry to try and smash the ball out of the park. How could they get wickets? He'd had to put the field out earlier to prevent the batsman scoring too freely, but that in turn meant it was harder to get them out. And who was he going to get to bowl? The two Creeveys were tired and needed a longer rest than the lunch break could provide. Nigel Hacker, a promising discovery from the Ravenclaw third year was the only other seam bowler on the team. Well, there was nothing for it. He'd have to put himself on to bowl. He was something of an all rounder after all. It couldn't do any harm could it? No. At any rate it was worth a try – Draco finished his dinner and lead his team back to the changing room for a pep talk to gee them up a bit and to announce the change of the bowling attack. The Creeveys seemed a little disappointed with this, but then again, that was probably a good thing. They should want to bowl all day if they were to have the right mental attitude to win. Soon though, it was time to head out, and Draco decided that he would take the first over of the session from the castle end. Umpire Ganguli tossed him the ball and Draco handed his hat over. Fred Weasley had taken resumed the strike on 37 and before lunch he had begun to motor along, scoring runs at a rate of knots. Draco paused momentarily at the top of his run up, which caused some confusion in the commentary box.

'So, Filchers, any idea why Malfoy has stopped like that?'

'No idea at all McGonners, he may be trying to focus in, but. Ah, there he goes.'

'In Malfoy goes, my that is a long run up compared with that of the Creevey brothers we saw earlier today, he's come in and Weasley has played a neat backwards defensive stroke, the ball goes straight on to the deck and is quickly stopped by the man at gully. Now the ball is going around the field on this pluperfect day to play cricket, there are a couple of clouds in the sky, but they are very high and don't look to threaten any rain. The bowler is coming in and that is a lovely ba... AND WEASLEY HAS COME DOWN THE PITCH AND SENT THAT FLYING FOR SIX! That went straight over the bowlers head, it was well over the bowler's head so not a chance there, but that is a statement of intent. It would seem that the strategy of changing the bowling attack has not worked at all, as Weasley takes on the bowling aggressively. With no more wickets in sight, the score moves onto 88 for 1. Malfoy in again, forward comes Weasley and punches that to the covers. Hasn't looked like getting out any time soon, and that usual danger period after lunch where you have to play yourself back in doesn't really seem to be an issue for Weasley.'

'Absolutely. If memory serves, he never was much of a one for restarting in first gear- always preferring to be expansive after his first couple of overs.'

'And Malfoy comes in again. It strikes Weasley on the pads and that is a huge appeal. Is he out? What will Ganguli say? The finger is raised. A breakthrough for the Hogwarts team almost immediately after lunch. That was what Malfoy was looking for when he put himself on to bowl, just changing the bowling slightly so that the batsman was less used to the bowling. That is unfortunate, but the Old Hogwartians are still in a commanding position, 88 for 2 as Lee Jordan comes in. Jordan is of course the captain of the away team and will be looking to play a captain's innings to build on the already highly successful start of the first few batsmen. He takes his guard from umpire Ganguli and Malfoy is at the start of his run up. The batsman is ready and Malfoy starts to come in. Jordan leaves it and it goes through to the keeper for no run. A promising start for Jordan, who made a good call there. Malfoy comes in again. Bowls. AND BOWLED HIM! Jordan just left that again and the ball was a straight as you could wish, middle stump has gone flying out of the ground. For a bowler at least, there is no better sight than a flying stump. Jordan is gone and is due to be replaced by the veteran John Dale. Two balls left in the over and the score has moved on to 88 for 3 as Jordan is dismissed for a duck. Malfoy into bowl and Dale plays it straight back down the pitch. No run. The batsman plays that off bat and pads and ohh. That was close it went straight to the fielder who lobs its straight back at the stumps. That's a near miss, but Dale's comfortably back in his ground as the ball is taken by the keeper. Next ball, Dale plays that firmly into the covers and that looks like its going for four. Will the fielder get there in time? Can he? No. The ball collides gently with the boundary rope and dale is off the mark with a four.'

The game carried on and despite the loss of two quick wickets, the opposition didn't look like they were ever going to be out. Dale had played himself in and was really punishing any bad bowling and neatly defending any good balls. Despite a good session- Draco had bowled far more maiden overs than otherwise- Draco was feeling tired. Determined to try one last trick, he brought himself and Nigel off, putting Padma and Colin back on. Colin was really fired up and was bowling aggressively, bouncing ball after ball at the batsmen who far from thinking of scoring were now thinking of surviving the over without injury.

'It's Creevey Major into bowl and that's hit the batsman, Barry doubles up on the floor as the ball hits him a midriff. That iis going to hurt and it is no surprise that the batsman is curled up on the floor. Madame Pomfrey is rushing onto the pitch to act as team physio, but something tells me that she's not going to be wanted where that ball hit. Barry is still down and that looks like it was really painful. Was he wearing a box? I hope so. That's better, he's getting up now and is hobbling about gingerly. Not a surprise at all. He's pulled a box out of his trousers and he's waving it at the dressing rooms. What's that all about? Oh, I see, the box has split in two due to the force of the impact. That must have hurt, I don't think I've ever seen a box split in two before.'

'Neither have I. Haven't even heard of it happening.'

'I see, well, that's not good, but, ah! They're rushing him out a replacement from the dressing room and he's stuffing his new box back down to where it belongs. Creevey's back at the top of his run up and Barry takes his guard. He'll be a bit nervous after that as Creevey comes steaming in and HE'S BOWLED HIM! That sneaked through a gap between bat and pads and the score is now 144 for 3. Now the keeper Arthur Stebbins is coming into bat. He's not bad at all but the Hogwarts team is really into the beginnings of the tail now. There are about two hours left in the day's play, and it will be interesting to see whether the Old Hogwartians can survive the day. The ball has gotten quite old now and I think Padma Patil is about to bowl a few overs of spin before they claim the new ball. Yes. Malfoy has thrown the ball to Patil to indicate that she is next in to bowl.'

Padma bowled well for a couple of overs in a bowling partnership with Colin, but soon the new ball became available. Draco took it, hoping that it might encourage a few more wickets and took Padma off for Dennis. It was a master stroke. Dennis, keen to prove that he was just as good as his brother started bowling in a really threatening way, bouncers threatening to bash up the batsman's body. These didn't put of Dale, who was quite comfortable, but it put the wind up Stebbins, who was out for 10 not long afterwards. Stebbins was followed by Harry Sidcup, who came in swinging and hit Dennis' next ball for four, just bouncing once inside the boundary rope, but the next ball, Sidcup was clean bowled as he mistimed his swing and missed totally. Then the wickets started tumbling. Colin picked up another two wickets- Andrews and Dobson bowled for 2 and 4 respectively and that left George Weasley, who got a heroic 14 but was then prevented in his progress when Draco, coming on to give Colin a break, promptly got Dale out when he played the ball on to his stumps and the Old Hogwartians had come to an end at a disappointingly low score of 294 all out.

Draco hurried in with the rest of the team to pad up. He had a ten minute break in which Hagrid would be rolling the heavy roller- in fact an overlarge boulder that had been magically smoothed into a cylinder- over the pitch to try and press it a bit. That ten minute break was soon over and Draco was walking out with Blaise Zabini.

'Well, I don't think I need to tell you this Zabini, but the general tactic for tonight is simply don't get out. Runs are an added bonus, but I want to see us survive until the end of play.'

'Yeah. How about we make it interesting? First one to get out has to pay the winner, oh, I don't know, how about one hundred galleons?'

'You're on. Though let's not run each other out. If you do, I promise you you'll be in at number 11 in the second innings.'

'Deal.'

Although the light was fading, Draco and Zabini started well, driving several bad balls to the boundary for four and, after the opposition spinner, George Weasley, was brought on to eke out a few extra overs in the bad light, Draco took the opportunity to hook a ball right into the stands for six. At the end of the day, the Hogwarts team had raised a respectable 33 for 0 and as he walked off the pitch, he felt happy that he hadn't yet lost the bet. Keen not to lose it tomorrow either, Draco lost no time in getting showered, changed and back up to the castle. He had an early dinner and then headed straight up to bed, where he lay, awake for a while before he fell asleep, thinking of his innings yet to come.

The match resumed promptly at eleven o'clock the next morning, despite the threatening presence of the looming clouds.

'And we welcome all our listeners back to the Hogwarts cricket ground where the Hogwarts team is resuming on 33 for 0 against the Old Hogwartians, who were all out yesterday for 294. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini resume on 21 and 12 respectively. Now, here come the teams, to general applause from across the ground. The umpires have thrown the ball and then to Lee Jordan, who relays it to Quentin Andrews to start the bowling. Andrews is getting to the start of his run up where he will face Malfoy. Will Malfoy get out early? It seems that if he is given enough time to play himself in than this is one of those pitches on which you can book in for bed and breakfast, Zabini down the non-striker's end will be looking to do likewise. Andrews bowls and Malfoy plays at it firmly into the covers. It's stopped there by Percy Weasley and they take no run. Andrews comes in again and Malfoy plays a lovely reverse sweep back through the field- it's going straight to the boundary. That is an excellent start to the day for young Malfoy, really showing great intent but it could be a little risky playing like that. The score moves on to 37. Andrews in again. That's wide! Malfoy doesn't even deem it fit to play it, and it's gone past the keeper for four. Oh dear, Stebbins won't be happy letting the ball go past like that. Four byes are added to the score. Andrews in, Malfoy drives him to mid-on. No run.'

That day, Draco reflected at tea was particularly slow. Inspired by their bet and facing what was at best marginally-better-than-average bowling Draco had ploughed through the nervous nineties about half an hour before Zabini, but by the end of the day they were both still in, each had gotten their 150's and were proceeding to their double centuries. With the score 374 for 0, Draco began to wonder about making a declaration. What would be the right score to stop batting at? Well, they could always bat again, but it would be better if they didn't have to. That meant a lead of at least three hundred, although four or even five hundred would be preferable. At the moment they had a lead of 80 and with 3 days left in the game after the final session of that day, Draco found himself inclined to wait. Positive lay though would be necessary. But not so positive he did something silly and got out.

'We return to the day's play as the Old Hogwartians are desperately trying to break this opening partnership. The ball, now quite old has been given to George Weasley to try and spin them a few. Weasley comes in and bowls a rank full toss, Malfoy has seen that and skies it. It's going straight to the fielder at deep mid-off. What a sad way for the innings to end. No! He's dropped him! Malfoy dropped on 191. That could prove costly. The batsmen managed two runs there, Malfoy now onto 193. Weasley in again. Malfoy takes a big step down the wicket and gives it a huge heave-ho. That's going for six, straight into the stands, where it's caught by. Well, I can't quite see, but it looks like a young Gryffindor from here. The ball's been thrown back onto the pitch and play will resume shortly. That was a huge hit. Malfoy now on 199, needs only one run to get his two hundred. Weasley in again and that is absolutely dispatched, same as the previous ball, going straight to the boundary for six. That takes him past the two hundred mark and the ground rises in spontaneous applause. A very nice innings, possibly a match winning one unless someone in the Old Hogwartians team pulls something off. Certainly the run of the green is going all the way of the home team.'

That prediction proved sadly true, as by the last over of the day Draco had put on 261 runs whereas Zabini is on 230. Desperate to try something, Lee Jordan had come on to bowl an over himself, in a last-ditch attempt to bowl out at least one of the home team before the end of the day's play. It wasn't promising as Zabini blocked out the last six balls of the day, leaving Draco to face the first ball of the next day.

Draco came out the next day ever so slightly nervous- he'd have to declare at some point today if there was to be any chance of winning the match, and it'd have to be soon. It was therefore with an almost suicidally positive intent that Draco came out. Before long he had smacked three sixes and another five fours, bringing his score round to 299. Alicia Spinnet ran in to bowl and Draco deflected the ball slightly off his edge and started to run. Zabini came running from the other end. The ball had gone straight to the fielder, who threw the ball at the bowler's end- straight to the stumps Draco was running at. Draco dived, his bat out ahead of him and the ball hit the stumps. Had his bat crossed the line before the ball had hit the stumps? Was he in, or was he out? Had he scored three hundred or was he out for 299? No. Yes. Draco raised his head to look at the umpire from his position down on the ground. Slowly the umpire considered the appeal. Draco waited for what seemed like an age. Then the umpire made his decision. Not out. Draco slowly got to his feet and celebrated, taking his helmet off and showing his bat to the crowd, which had gone wild. Spinnet came in, and bowled to Zabini. The ball clipped the edge of his bat and carried in down and back. Draco smiled a small inward smile. One hundred galleons up and a commanding match position. Well. Now seemed as good a time as any to declare. Draco walked off with Blaise, waving at the opposition just so they knew he was declaring. Well, that was a respectable personal best, 300 not out. Shame it couldn't go in the muggle record books, but he'd have to accept the wizard ones. That was a good score. There wasn't time to focus on that, though; Draco needed to focus on the next phase of the game, how would they bowl the opposition out? Secretly, he suspected it would be quite easy as scoreboard pressure was probably beginning to tell. 564 for 0 declared plays 294 all out and, well that would be the question, wouldn't it. A lead of 270 was useful, but by no means decisive. Should he have stayed out for longer? No. It was best to give plenty of time to bowl the opposition out and then knock off the final total, if there was any, in the last day. It wouldn't be that much anyway.

How Draco came to regret that thought. Fate had been tempted and seemingly didn't have the self-control to resist as the Old Hogwartians did spectacularly well. Percy and Fred Weasley started with an excellent opening partnership of 107 and it went downhill from there. Whilst the wickets fell at a regular interval, the runs kept mounting up and by the evening they had already romped to 305 for 3 and there was no sign of where the next wicket would come from. That declaration was looking ever more like a mistake. With only two days left, Draco knew that tomorrow would have to go differently if there was to be any hope. Issuing orders to the team for an early night, Draco headed to bed immediately after tea. He couldn't sleep, lying there thinking of how he could win. He turned scenario after scenario over in his mind, trying to formulate plans for getting the opposition out cheaply tomorrow. What could he do? Draco didn't get much sleep that night, despite the early night and the next morning he was exceedingly grumpy as he ate breakfast with his team.

'Come on Skipper, cheer up. We're not that far behind.' Colin said, trying to cheer Draco up. It didn't particularly work, although the large bowl of porridge did and it was with an entirely different frame of mind that Draco took the field.

With the wicket deteriorating and plenty of footmarks to bowl into Padma began to take wickets quickly, Percy was out to a bowl which pitched outside leg and knocked the bail off the off-stump and from there on Draco knew that today was going to be a hard day to bat. It was time for the spines to come out, and desperate to get as many wickets as possible, Draco brought Terry Boot on at the other end. Together the two spinners caused some carnage to the middle order of the Old Hogwartian team and soon the tail-enders were floundering. A decent couple of overs of slogging proved costly for the home team, but that didn't matter- the visitors were all out for 512. That set a target of 243 to win. That was going to be difficult.

Draco and Blaise got off to a good start, whacking 40 quick runs off of the seam bowlers, but soon the new ball lost its shine and Lee brought on the deadly spin of George Weasley. First Draco fell, nicking a ball to first slip and soon after Zabini. It was time to see how well the west of the team could do.

201 runs to go.

Justin Finch Fletchley and Katie Bell formed a good partnership, making 20 runs between them until Justin too fell to the spin.

181 runs to go.

Marcus Belby came in with a defensive mindset and before long had played himself in. The spin bowling didn't really seem to worry him at all and Katie's innings was going along nicely and before Draco- who had to force himself to watch-knew it, she had got her 50.

126 runs to go. That was better.

Then, disaster. Belby got out playing at a wide and Dean struggled to play himself in, eventually getting run out for nine.

117 runs to go, 5 wickets left.

Boot, who had done so well to keep the opposition score low in the third innings carried some confidence with him, which was just as well, as he was the last member of the team who could do anything useful with the bat. Together they steadied the ship, waiting for the welcome break that lunch would represent. After lunch the Hogwarts team resumed on 146 for 5, needing 97 runs to win. Almost immediately Katie started by hitting the first ball to the boundary for four. Much better. Another hour went by without much happening- the occasional run was scored but with plenty of time left in the game, Bell and Boot were being careful to play themselves in. Then suddenly Dobson bowled a ball which moved a bit more than the previous ball and Boot was out.

78 runs to go, four wickets left.

Nigel Hacker came in next thinking aggressively, but restrained by Bell's good sense he played steadily for a while. In the commentary box they were thinking that the game could only go one way.

'Well, this looks like it can only go one way, eh Sluggers?'

'Oh yes indeed, the home team seem to be going forward nicely with a pluperfect innings form Katie Bell forming the backbone of this innings.'

'Quite so. Andrews into bowl to Bell and that's up in the air, going straight to the man at mid on. Is she going to be caught? Yes! She's gone! That's going to cause an upset.'

'Yes it is. With Bell, the last recognised batsman out, the tail-enders don't have anyone to guide them through. We've already seen how Bell helped Hacker keep calm and that probably prevented a wicket. Still fifty-two runs to go for the home team to win, but with only three wickets left can they do it?'

'Well, here comes the next batsman- or should that be batswoman? Padma Patil has come in. She hasn't made a big score since her second Hogwarts match where she scored 53, but since then there have been far too many low scores for her comfort. Andrews comes in again and Patil deflects that neatly through the slips for three runs. Hacker back on strike for the last ball of the over. The ball is back to Andrews who comes teaming in like a man possessed. That hits Hacker in the chest. He's still standing so I think we can assume he's got a chest pad on underneath his whites, but that is going to leave a mark. They've survived Andrews over and it's looking as though that's going to be the last over of Andrews' spell, so it would seem like they've survived him. 49 runs left to go. Jordan has thrown the ball back to Dobson, so it looks as though he's going to have one more over too. Dobson's at the top of his run up. Comes in. Bowls and that is dismissed by Patil. An ugly ball, full of a length and wide of off stump, that was just asking to be hit. 43 runs left with three wickets in hand. It's a little tight, but at this rate Hogwarts will have won by teatime. Dobson in again, and Patil flashes at that, she missed and it goes down past the keeper. They run a bye and the home team are now chasing only 42 runs. Hacker on strike. Dobson into bowl and he has a big swipe at that. Ball through to the keeper. Stumped! Was Hacker out of his crease there? Certainly Stebbins thinks so, but what does umpire Ganguli think? He raises his finger. Hogwarts now need 42 runs with only two wickets in hand. The momentum has swung in favour of the Old Hogwartians. What is going to happen next? Dennis Creevey comes to the crease.'

Dennis and Padma put on forty runs between them and the game was looking like it was in the bag.

'And it's Weasley into bowl to Patil and she's bowled! That's a blow for Hogwarts who need 2 runs to win with only one wicket left. Colin Creevey comes out to bat and it looks as though it's all over for Hogwarts. His top score in Hogwarts matches is six, which while enough to win this match, was scored with a top order batsmen in with him. Now he only has his brother for support and neither of the Creevey's are notable batsmen. Weasley in again. That's well left as that ball marks the end of the over. Dennis Creevey now on strike. Spinnet is taking the next over and she comes in and bowls. That's a wide. The scores are now level and that eliminates the opportunity for a draw or an Old Hogwartians victory, of course the tie and a victory for the Hogwarts team are both possible. Spinnet in and they take the run. The balls gone straight to the fielder and he takes a shy at the stumps. Colin's fallen over! Colin Creevey's fallen over and is just short of his crease, he's crawling desperately along the ground, bat out in front of him as the keeper whips the bails of the stumps. So, is that a tie or a win for Hogwarts, what does umpire Felsinger think? This is a difficult decision, certainly I'm not going to call it from here. Any ideas Filchers?'

'No, none, that really could have gone either way.'

'Felsinger is considering it, what is he going to do? Is he going to raise the finger? No! Not out! Hogwarts win the game by one run with no wickets to spare.

Draco felt elated - his stomach had gone up and down and with that last run it had sunk to an all time low to an all time high in no time at all. Floating on a cloud of happiness he did his duty as captain and thanked Lee Jordan for the game before accepting the small ceramic trophy from Dumbledore. He took the trophy in one hand and shook hands with Dumbledore with the other. Suddenly the old man collapsed. Draco began to panic. What had happened? From all around the ground people came running onto the pitch, desperate to help in any way they could. Snape was the first man there, he lifted Dumbledore's wrist and felt for a pulse. Sadly Snape shook his head. Then Draco realised.

'He's dead, isn't he?'

'Yes.'

Draco fell harshly from his adrenaline induced euphoria. Dumbledore was dead. Certainly a funeral would follow and all sorts of other things, but the protection that the great man had given Hogwarts, and indeed much of the wizarding world was gone. Unable to do anything useful, Draco went back to the changing room to get out of his whites. Somehow it didn't seem right.

Despite what should have been a happy event, the mood in the common room that evening was depressive. No-one was happy, and keen to get away from everyone Draco headed up to the dorm to write a letter to Noctifer.

_Dear Uncle Noctifer,_

_We won the match. When Dumbledore was presenting me with the trophy he collapsed. Professor Snape declared him dead within minutes. Thought you ought to know._

_Draco._

The reply came just before Draco was going to head to bed. The envelope felt oddly bulky.

_Dear Draco,_

_Thank you for your letter. I have enclosed the key to the house as I will be unable to collect you at the end of term- I'm going to Italy for business. I'm afraid to say that you are not the only one with bad news. I dare say you will see it in tomorrow's Prophet, but a nasty incident happened today. I was in the Leaky Cauldron with Sirius Black when Death Eaters burst in. I managed to get away, but Sirius didn't. _

_Stay safe,_

_Noctifer._

Then Harry walked in, tears in his eyes. There could only be one reason for that. Draco got up and went over to give Harry a supporting embrace.

'Sirius.' Harry said, between tears.

'I'm sorry.' Draco said, unsure of what to do. In the end, Harry broke off and went sadly to bed.


	48. Chapter 48

At breakfast the next morning Professor McGonagall sadly announced that the school would be closing for reasons of security until a new headmaster was officially appointed. Those who wanted to stay on for Dumbledore's funeral were welcome to do so, but a special train would be put on for all those who did not wish to remain at school. Almost the entire school stayed, however a few students did leave, some because their parents had demanded they come home immediately on hearing of Dumbledore's death, others because they had no wish to stay and a few because they had other, more personal funerals to go to.

This last group included a small group of Gryffindors, who, having raided Dumbledore's private library for several books on Horcruxes, were heading home for the funeral of Sirius Black.

It was a quiet affair, Tonks, Lupin, Harry, Draco, the Weasleys and Hermione were the only people in attendance. As the only surviving members of his family, Tonks and Draco led the procession from Grimmauld place to the Black family vault in the nearby church. The vault was marked by a large stab of dark grey marble which looked almost black with age. After a very short service the slab was slid back- with magic, even though the muggle priest had to be oblivated afterwards –and the ebony coffin was slowly lowered to join those already down there. The lid of the tomb was slid back and sealed for the final time. Sadly the mourners returned to Grimmauld Place where Kreacher had prepared several trays of curious sandwiches. Draco, like everyone else, took just enough to be polite and no more. The will was read and then goodbyes were said. Draco headed back home.

The house had only been empty for a couple of weeks but inside it felt clammy and musty. Cobwebs were beginning to accumulate in the less well travelled areas of the house and the only noise Draco could hear was his own breathing. Slowly Draco headed to the boiler cupboard to relight the central heating. No use. What was wrong? Draco tried the light. No electricity. Bother. Well, that was easily dealt with. Draco headed back downstairs to find the circuit breakers. Yes – they were all off. Draco flicked them back on and suddenly a great symphony of noise began across the house- everything turned on at once, filling the place with the gentle buzz of the fans to the slight clink of the light bulbs turning on. A bass note penetrated all though, with a great whumph the boiler had fired up. That was better, still, Draco found himself impatient for the day when he was finally allowed to use magic outside of school. Only a couple of months to go, he thought excitedly, as he began chopping the vegetables for dinner.

Despite a regular commute of owls between his house and The Burrow, Draco was feeling cut off from the rest of the world. He hadn't seen, or talked, to anyone in weeks and so it was with great surprise that a vast patronus roared down his chimney and out of the empty fireplace to announce the Minister for Magic. How was he going to arrive though? This place had never been connected to the floo network and nobody had come to do the wandwork at his end, nor could he apparated in- Noctifer had installed more than enough security charms to prevent that happening. It was only a couple of minutes until Draco found out.

The doorbell rang three times. And another three short blasts. Getting up from his comfortable armchair Draco got up and headed down the house to the door. With one hand on his wand he slowly opened it. Outside stood Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister for Magic since Crouch had retired.

'May I come in Mr Malfoy.' The man asked, with a hint of distaste in his mouth.

'I suppose so. Would you care for a cup of tea? Or something stronger perhaps?'

'Something stronger if you've got it, if you please.'

'Certainly. There's a thirty year old firewhiskey here, would that suit?'

'That sounds lovely, thank you.'

Draco poured two drinks and took the minister to the second sitting room.

'Please take a seat.' Draco said, sitting down in his favourite armchair.

'Thank-you. Mr Malfoy. I have come to you from the Burrrow. I am here to pass along some objects that have been left to you.'

'Left to me? Who by?'

'Albus Dumbledore. He has left you two books, one appears to be a bound proof copy. It has a note attached saying that he would like you to publish it in the distant future, but until that time to make good use of it.'

'I see.'

'Well, I'm not quite sure you do. Did Dumbledore ever mention anything to you about the Dark Arts?'

'Yes.'

'He did?'

'Well, he did teach us Defence against the Dark Arts three years or so ago. Following the Moody debacle.'

'Of course. Difficult to teach that subject without talking about the dark arts, isn't it?'

'One would suppose so.'

'But apart from that, did he ever mention anything to you about the dark arts?'

On the edge of his mind Draco felt a strange probing presence. Immediately he thought back to his lessons with Snape and did his best to force the intruding presence of Scrimgeour out of his mind.

'No.' Draco lied. If Scrimgeour hadn't been taken into Dumbledore's confidence when the headmaster was alive, Draco was damned if he'd do it now that Dumbledore was dead.

'I see. Well, I suppose I have to give you these books, no matter hjow questionable the content might be.'

'Questionable?'

'Yes, indeed. I take it Dumbledore didn't tell you he had left you anything.'

'No, he didn't.'

'Well, one book- a perfectly fine and legitimate book- is one advanced defensive magics. It looks as if Dumbledore wrote it himself. The other, well, let's say that it has a somewhat less pleasant tone, shall we.' Scrimgeour produced two books and laid them down on the small coffee table that stood between them before walking back to the front door.

'Thank you for your time and your firewhiskey. A truly redoubtable vintage. I must be leaving you- lots of work to be getting on with.'

'Very well. Farewell, Minister.'

Scrimgeour looked back when he was about to leave.

'You sound spookily like your father, Mr Malfoy. Goodbye.' And with a flick of his coattails he vanished. That was a bit surreal. Draco wondered whether he had imagined all of that for a moment, but when he went back to the sitting room and found two books sitting fussily on the table he realised it had been all too real. Draco picked up the top book. It was titled_ Advance Defensive Magics by A.P.W. ._ The other book was unbound and had a handwritten title. _The Dark Art, A Comprehensive Guide. _Curious, Draco picked it up and leafed through it. Everything was in here. Everything. There was no piece of dark magic Draco had ever heard of that wasn't written down here with full instructions about how to cast the spell right down to how to detect it and beat it. This was an evil wizard's dream. What had Dumbledore been thinking when he had written this? It was full to the brim of illegal spells, hexes and curses and it had gotten to him through the ministry censors despite all that. Perhaps Dumbledore'd been thinking quite a lot about this. Why would he want to pass Draco a load of dark magic though? What was the point? Draco sat, in a sort of shocked silence and turned it all over in his mind. What use could dark magic be? The Dark Lord? Yes, it had to be something to do with him. What though? Draco flipped to the H's. Glory be that this book was sorted alphabetically. H-O, H-O, there we go. Horcruxes, horcruxes, were they in here? Were they in here? Yes- there they were, a full, what- Draco quickly flipped the pages over – five sides on them. There wasn't much on how to create them, but even the bare bones Dumbledore had written down suggested to Draco a way to make one. The biggest section in the book was on how to destroy them. It was a disappointingly short list. Draco felt frustrated- he'd known about all of these already. Was there anything on detection?

_The only known way to detect a horcrux is blind luck and deduction using knowledge about the wizard who created it. It is possible to detect a horcrux by the way that a wizard using one does not die when hit by a killing curse- see pages 12, 18, 122-141 and most of the rest of the book- but instead becomes an ethereal spirit._

Hmm, no use there then. Draco put the book on the dark arts to one side before picking up the other. What was in it? Draco looked at then contents page, deep in wonder. In it were listed such chapters as "All you need to know about battle transfiguration" and "So you thought charms were friendly?" This looked like it would be just as useful as the other book, possibly more so as some of the things in it looked as though they might be actually usable. Legally usable, that is – thought something in the back of Draco's mind.

All of a sudden, Draco looked up, distracted from his reverie by a tapping at the window. It was his owl, come back from delivering Harry his birthday present. Attached to one leg was a brief note.

_Hi Draco,_

_Hermione here. Thought I'd keep you up to date with what we're planning here. Won't say too much in case this owl is intercepted, but Ron's older brother Bill is getting married soon. See you at some point afterwards._

_Stay safe._

_Hermione._

No real news there then, but by the sounds of things their plans would be going ahead soon. Just as well, it was beginning to get more than a little lonely stuck here for weeks on end. Oh well, at least he had magic now, the last few months had been a lot better than the first of this – well, it wasn't really a holiday was it?

About lunchtime Draco decided to go outside and stretch his legs. Locking up the house he went outside and wandered slowly through the village, and out again the other side, no-one spotted him, thanks to a carefully cast notice-me-not charm. The woods on the far side of the village grew up a steep hill and it was to the top of this hill that Draco now climbed. It was unpleasantly warm work- particularly in the warm and sticky atmosphere that seemed to fill the place. At the top of the hill was a large oak, and with a quick jump, Draco had his arms hanging onto one of the lower branches. Draco swung his legs a bit and then gave one almighty pull with his arms, his body went up and he managed to loop one of his legs onto the branch so that he was now hanging underneath it like a sloth. Pulling the other leg onto the branch, Draco shuffled slightly so he could do the next bit. Letting go with his arms, Draco hung upside down by the strength of his legs alone. Slowly he reached upwards, doing what looked to be the strangest sit-up since the dawn of human history. Draco felt with his fingers as his stomach screamed at him. Not much longer now. There, he had the branch. Good. Draco untangled himself from the lower branch and used his arms to pull himself up so that he was standing on it. Now it was easy- all he had to do now was climb to the branch where'd he placed the post-box he was directing all his magical post to. What was in it? A couple of bills in their brown envelopes stood out, particularly unwelcome, but since they were addressed to Noctifer, Draco didn't concern himself with them, simply writing "not known at this address- return to sender" on them before stuffing them into the outbox. The only other thing in there was what he had come to pick up- this week's backlog of Daily Prophets. Sticking these under one arm he climbed down before jumping out of the lowest branch. Rolling slightly to break the impact of his fall, Draco started the journey home.

Pretty soon he found himself wishing that he hadn't bothered- there was no interesting news filling the prophet- there never was when the wizengamot was on its summer break. One article however, eventually caught his eye.

**Aurors recalled.**

_Several well-known former aurors have answered the ministry's plea this week to come out of retirement, as the present crisis continues. Amongst the returning aurors are such notable names as Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody and Phil 'Knock Knees' Ramsbotham. It is hoped that the return of these grizzled veterans of the previous conflict will turn the sway of the battle ever more in the ministry's favour._

Hmm, calling back retired aurors- no matter how they spun it anyone could see that the ministry was struggling if it had had to do that. It was only a matter of time. How much time was anybody's guess.

Draco spent the rest of the week preparing to welcome Harry, Ron and Hermione. He organised them each their own room, although it pained him slightly to think that one of Ron or Hermione's wouldn't be used much. Draco had just finished putting clean towels out, late one evening when an urgent ringing started on the door. Draco hurried to answer it. Outside stood Harry, Hermione and a bleeding Ron.


	49. Chapter 49

'What's wrong?' Draco asked, hurrying them inside.

'The wedding. It was attacked.'

'Who by?'

'Death Eaters, we don't know about anything else.'

'What about the ministry?' Draco asked.

'Don't know much.'

They laid Ron down on a sofa and Draco whipped out his wand.

'It wasn't splinching, I assume.'

'No.' Ron grunted through gritted teeth.

'Well, hang on a sec, this may hurt slightly.'

Draco waved his wand and slowly the blood started to seep back into the wound. When the flow of blood stopped, Draco moved his wand back the other way, mumbling under his breath. Slowly the sides of the wound began to knot together, sealing the gash. Before long, Ron was as good as new.

'So, how'd you get that?'

'The Death Eaters.'

'What about them?'

'They gate-crashed the wedding. We got this patronus through from the minister and then they arrived.'

'The patronus...' Draco said, suspicion setting in.

'It was a warning. He said that the ministry was under attack. He said to run.'

'The ministry. Should we help?'

'Too late for that, You-know-who was there himself, we heard Scrimgeour and Moody duelling him. I think they're dead. Anyone going there now who isn't going to pay lip-service to the new regime...' Ron swiped his hand across his throat.

'Well, you're here now. That's good, I suppose.'

'I don't know. The attack on the wedding seemed too quick. Almost as if they were tracing Harry. I took us all to Tottenham Court Road, then, before long, they showed up there as well.'

'Tottenham Court Road?'

'Yeah, well, I panicked. Went to the first muggle place I could think of. Then I thought of here. Silly really, I should have stuck to the plan,. Then Ron wouldn't have.' Hermione seemed on the verge of tears.

'Don't worry, Herms, I'm alright aren't' I. We're here aren't we? Anyone would panic when made to do something like that.' Ron said.

'I suppose so.'

'What about the cloak- how do we get it from the Burrow?' Harry asked, caught in a moment of panic.

'Don't worry about that- I've got it all with me.'

'Where?'

'In my bag.'

'What, that thing, it's tiny.'

'On the outside, maybe, however this little gem is bigger on the inside- undetectable extension charm.'

'Neat- what've you done about the weight?'

'Buoyancy charm.'

'Neat.'

'I thought so.' Said Hermione- with a degree of smugness on her face.

'So, what's the plot then?' Ron asked, how are we going to find the you-knows?'

'The horcruxes, yeah.'

'Any ideas?'

'No. Well, yes. First of all we need to find them. Dumbledore reckoned it was something of Hufflepuff's, something of Ravenclaw's and his Snake. The diary, the ring and the locket are already dealt with.'

'Any better ideas?'

'Not really, Dumbledore said something about Hufflepuff's relic being a cup- he didn't say where it was though.'

'Shame.'

'Yeah,it is really, with something as important as finding Voldemort's horcruxes'

'Don't say the name!' Ron yelled.

'As important as finding the horcruxes, you would have thought he'd give us all the help he could.'

'Yeah, right.'

'What's that?'

'The ringing noise?'

'Yeah.'

'Ah.' Said Draco, 'That means we've got a problem, get your stuff together, I'll meet you back here in five minutes. Let's hope we've got that long.'

Draco rushed round the house like a man possessed, picking up trousers, socks, pants and shirts and stuffing them all into a big bag he had prepared earlier. He'd need some books as well. He rushed upstairs and with a flick of his wand all of the books on magic in the library began to float into his bag. What else? Yes- the tent, that'd be useful. Having picked that up Draco rushed back downstairs, picking up the two books from Dumbledore and his broomstick.

'Right. I'm packed.'

'Why? What's wrong?'

'That bell means we're about to have unwelcome visitors. It's one of the warning charms Noctifer installed on the place. No one can get in now I've put the place into lockdown. It's supposed to be unlocatable too, but clearly that charm had a flaw in it. We need to get out of here now.'

'Now? Who's out there?'

'Can't tell, but if they're Death Eaters- more than likely all things considered, I don't want to hang around to find out.'

'Ok. Which way should we go?'

'Not out of the front door, that's for sure. Let's head out back, there's a wooded area in the garden that could hide an army- that's where we should go first.'

'Won't they see us?'

'No chance, they haven't gotten into the grounds yet, let alone the house. When they get past the front gate though, the anti-apparition jinx that I set up'll collapse and we can get out of town before the clock strikes noon.'

'But it's quarter to ten in the evening.'

'It's an expression.'

'Oh.'

Draco locked the back door behind them and they ran across the well manicured lawns and out into the dense undergrowth of the wood.

'Blimey, Draco. It's like the forbidden forest in here.'

'Don't worry- no Grawps in here.'

'What about giant spiders.'

'None of them either. We get the occasional deer, but that's about it.'

'You get deer in your garden. We only get gnomes.'

'Count yourself lucky- gnomes don't eat the leaves of the vegetables.'

'They do steal them though.'

'I suppose so.'

Draco led them further in to the woods. Slowly underneath the bows of several ancient beech trees, Draco raised a silent hand to bring them to a halt.

'What is it?' Harry hissed.

'We're at the edge of the defensive grid- any further and we'll start tripping spells off. That happens and they'll know we're here. Now, we have to wait.'

'For what?'

'For _his_ goons to break through the rest of them. Ooh, nasty.'

'What's nasty?'

'Well, they didn't deactivate the flesh-ripping spell. It disintegrates anyone who goes through it, and I mean anyone. Someone just has.'

'That's really cruel- who set that up?'

'Oh, I did. It was in a book I've got.'

'Who wrote this book? Herpo the Foul?'

'No, it was Dumbledore actually.'

'Dumbledore?'

'Yeah. Scrimgeour came round- before I'd activated all of these spells, obviously – and gave me two books. Said Dumbledore had left me them in his will. One of them was a bit dodgy. That's where I got that spell from.'

'"A bit dodgy?" You think disintegrating someone is _a bit dodgy?_'

'You could say that. Personally, since they were almost certainly happy to disintegrate me, I'd be happy to do the same to them.'

'What's that?' Harry asked, as a tingling sensation filled the surrounding air.

'No idea, I think that one was cast by Noctifer. No idea what it does, but I'm not entirely sure I'd like to be on the receiving end.'

'How long is this going to take, Draco?'

'Ages, with any luck, but we have to be out here if we're going to get away, and depending on who's there these charms could be down in a minute or two.'

'You don't think _he_..?' Hermione asked.

'I hope not, or this might not work. Hmm, not that many charms left now, they seem to be brute forcing them away.'

'Brute force, you mean. Yeah, they're just sending people at them. Nasty way to go.'

'Couldn't we make the spells go away- save them.'

'And let them know we're here? No. At any rate, those people are dead already, they just haven't stopped breathing yet.'

'How can you say that, Draco? That's really cruel.'

'But also true. Look, if these people are being used by the Death Eaters to break through spells like these, then they aren't in the new regime's good books. If you're not in the new regime's good books, well, I personally wouldn't give them good odds of living out the month.'

Hermione looked appalled.

'I know, but if anyone's going to be saved, we can't afford to take any chances. Not while Harry's with us.'

'It's no good us surviving to save people if there's no-one left to save.' Hermione said deliberately.

'Yes, but. No, grab hold, it's time to go, grab your stuff. The anti-apparition jinx is going. Now, it's gone.'

Instantly Hermione began to apparated them away. As his insides protested at being forced through an apparition they hadn't been expecting, Draco felt a tinge of sadness. He'd spent six years of his life living there, and now, well, now it might not be standing by the time he got a chance to come back.

When the apparition stopped, they found themselves in anther forest, this time one full of a mixture of pines and mixed deciduous trees.

'Where are we now?'

'The Forest of Dean. I used to come here on camping holidays as a child. It doesn't seem to have changed.'

'Well, are we going anywhere from here?'

'Where could we go? It's not as if we can go back anywhere is it? Even Grimmauld place isn't safe.'

'Why not?'

'Kreacher. Now Sirius has died we don't know who he's working for, and at any rate, it was never that safe- Sirius never bothered putting any new defensive charms on it. He reckoned the old ones would hold. I'm not so sure.'

'Why?'

'Oh, well, I saw Snape there once, he came with Dumbledore, but if he could get in then he can get in now. Same problem with the Order's Headquarters. Therte's no way Snape doesn't know the way in, and where he goes, Vol.'

'Don't say it.' Draco said.

'Why, you're normally okay with me saying V'

'Don't say it. I think there might be a taboo on it'

'A what?'

'Well, don't you think it's a bit funny how they've managed to trace you so quickly. When the warning bell went off back home you'd just said the name. I'd be prepared to bet you'd said it at the party and in London too.'

'I think I did, but what's that got to do with anything?'

'Well- it's how they're tracing you. They've put a taboo on the word, well- I'm not going to say it, but you know the one I mean. The V-word. Not many people say it, barely any now Dumbledore's passed on. You always do- makes it a good way of tracking you down, doesn't it?'

'How did you guess that?'

'Oh, well, it's how Dumbledore tracked Grindelwald down before their big duel way back when. It's in quite a few books on the subject.'

'Is it?'

'Yeah, Dumbledore never told anyone what he'd used though, perhaps it was a bit personal.'

'Don't you think we should get back to what we;re going to do now. I don't think we can hide out at yours any more, Draco.'

'True. Shame really, I was looking forward to trying some of your cooking, Draco.' Ron commented.

'You never know, I'm sure I packed some food when I was preparing. So, shall we get the tent out then?'

'I suppose we should', said Hermione, diving into her own bag. Draco unstrapped his bag and pulled his own tent out.

'Ah, an impasse.' Said Draco, when they both produced their tents at the same time. Well, I think mine's bigger.'

'It's what you do with it that counts.' Ron interrupted, sniggering.

'A statement wielded by the undersized everywhere.' Draco said bluntly, Ron looked slightly embarrassed.

'Which is safer?'

'I don't know. Perkins always seemed likely a safety-conscious bloke to me.'

'And totally inoffensive to anyone- do you really think he'd have more than the standard muggle-repelling charms on his tent? No. Me neither. Mind you, this one doesn't either, but at least it doesn't smell of cats.'

'All right, those who want the smell of cats, put their hand up.' Hermione moved her hand.

'And those who don't want the smell of cats?'

The boys all put their hands up.

'With your tent it is then Draco, you get it up, we'll make sure no-one can see.'

'That's what she said.' Ron quipped. Everyone groaned. Draco set about erecting the tent with a couple of deft waves of his wand. The canvas billowed and then settled. Tent pegs flew out of their bag and through the loops of the tent and guy-lines into the ground. When the outside was sorted Draco headed into the tent to set up the kitchen, bedrooms and bathroom whilst the others stayed outside casting a web of protective and concealing charms about their campsite. When they had finished they took what little they had into the tent , where they found Draco in the kitchen.

'Kettle's on, anyone for a cup of something warm and wet?'

'Please.'

'Anyone else? No? Well, anyone hungry? You lot had dinner?'

'No- what've we got?'

'Not much I'm afraid, but then I'm a mean leftovers chef.'

'Leftovers chef?'

'Yeah, I can cook something good out of bits and bobs left over in the cupboards. What've we got? Let's see. Blimey-that's sausage has gone a bit, hasn't it. Throw it outside could someone?' Draco said, producing a mouldy sausage from within the cupboard.

'Funny how bits left over in tents isn't it?' Hermione commented, 'I mean, it's bad enough with your muggle tents, but magical ones must be even worse- so much more space.'

'Yeah, right, hang on, what's this? Dried pasta- looks as good as the day it was made. That's something at least. Now what've we got in tins?'

'Tins?'

'Tins, yes. Tin cans, best muggle invention ever, Noctifer was always saying- there should be a load in that cupboard over there.'

'Ok, well, not too much, a tin of tomatoes and some spam.'

'Spam?'

'Yeah, spam.'

'We can work with that. Shame there's no onions.'

'Onions? What do you want onions for?' Ron asked.

'Honestly Ron, onions are the basis of nearly every meal.' Hermione said.

'Too right.' Said Draco, the noise muffled by the cupboard his head was still in, as he rooted about for other things.

'Well, those'll go for another day.' Said Draco, pulling his head out of the cupboard at last. 'Tell you what, I'll start dinner, do you lot want to go and make the beds? Ah, Harry, you're back. How's the sausage?'

'Well and truly gotten rid of.'

'Thank goodness for that.'

'Do you want a hand?'

'I'll be all right, go and get your bed made- the others will have found the stuff by now I dare say. Dinner's in forty minutes.'

'Thanks.'

'No worries.'

Sitting down for a curious dinner of spam bolognaise the quartet started to talk about what they should do next.

'I think we should start with this cup- we know what it is , which is a good bet, and once we've got it we can try to destroy it.'

'Shouldn't we get a way to destroy them first?'

'We've got one, haven't we?'

'I don't see any basilisk venom.'

'You don't need basilisk venom per se, anything that does sufficient magical damage will do. Fiendfyre, for instance.'

'But that's really dangerous, isn't it.'

'If you don't do it properly, certainly, but I reckon we find ourselves a nice blasted heath and try to there- well away from anyone and anything, then we should be alright.'

'Aren't you forgetting one tiny little thing?'

'What?'

'We don't know how to make fiendfyre.'

'So? It's in that book Dumbledore left me, it's absolutely full of information on these sort of things.'

'Great, so that's that sorted out, when we find them, we blow them up with fire, but in the mean time, how are we going to get them?'

'Well, the cup's a good place to start, isn't it?' Harry asked, receiving nods from all around the table.

'One small snag there though, no-one's seen it in years.' Hermione pointed out.

'Well, Dumbledore was always banging on about understanding you enemy and that sort of thing in those lessons. He always said that Vol-know-who, sorry, was a bit self-aggrandising. Hence his lordship, well, Dumbledore reckoned that he'd stick his horcruxes in places that meant something to him.'

'Are you sure?- He did stick one of them in a grotty cave , you said.'

'Yes, but Dumbledore said that the place was important to V, he-who-must-not-be-named for other reasons- it was where he first found how magic gave him power over others.'

'Right, that's quite important after all then, silly me.'

'Quite alright Ron, I thought the same myself before Dumbledore explained it.' Ron seemed to brighten up at this.

'Still, where _are_ we going to find this cup then? Where would the Dark Lord think was important enough for him?'

'I reckon Hogwarts.'

'What, still?'

'But that place meant a lot to Volde-who, it was the first place he ever considered to be home.'

'We're not talking about you, you know.'

'Yes, I know. I'm just saying there's quite a lure to the place- not to mention that he once said he'd discovered more of that places secrets than any other student. Don't you think that would be a good place to hide something? I mean come on, one thing we know about horcruxes is you have to keep them safe.'

'So?'

'So when I first went to Gringott's with Hagrid, you know what he said to me? "Safest place in the world if you've got anything you want to hide, except perhaps Hogwarts"'

'Surely you don't think Hagrid knew where they were.'

'No, but I think the young V-Riddle would have felt that way.'

'Say that all you want, I'm still not convinced.'

'But it's a start, isn't it?'

'And an end. Come on Harry, wake up and smell the coffee, if you go back to Hogwarts now what do you think'll happen? _He_'ll have had it infiltrated- it's probably no safer for you than walking straight into Malfoy Manor. No offense meant.' Ron quickly said.

'None taken.'

'Well, we can't sit in this tent forever, can we?'

'No. Well, it's getting late, we can do the washing up in the morning. I'm heading to bed. If you need me, wait 'til morning. Night guys.'

'Night, Draco.'


	50. Chapter 50

Draco got up. Days had passed since first they had pitched camp. Whilst his cot bed was wonderfully warm, outside it was slightly chilly. Keen to get some fresh air, Draco got up and went for a walk outside. The tang of the cold air in stark contrast to the fuggy tent, bit into his face waking him up more effectively than anything else could have done. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, its velvety rays showing up in the thin mist that filled the forest. It was almost as if there was nothing wrong with the world, just like he was back at home, as he had the last few months, getting up early to get the papers. Well, there wasn't any reason he couldn't go and get them, was there? After all, he'd paid for his subscription, he may as well get the most out of it.

Draco apparated north to the tree where his impromptu letterbox was. Once more he began the tricky procedure of climbing the tree. Jump, legs around, swing and grab. Pull up and stand. Then Draco slipped, with an athletic jump, he managed to grab hold of another branch with no reward for his troubles except a scratch which felt like it was bleeding. Never mind, that could be sorted out later, onwards and upwards. Well, there we go, another week's worth of papers. That long already? Well, just as well he was here, not much room for any more, any longer and the owl would be having trouble. Draco picked up the papers and shoved them under his arm. Well, there wasn't much point in jumping down- he might as well apparate all the way back. Now, couple of D's, never mind about the licence - apparating without a licence would be the least of his troubles, and at any rate, he'd done it once today already. Now, here's hoping he didn't miss his way back.

Before long, Draco was back. The tent was around here somewhere, but that didn't matter much now, did it. Suddenly Draco heard voices, one sounded slightly crackly. And another, exactly the same. Draco dived into under a nearby hedge. Great, even more prickly, but who could it be? Surely they hadn't been found already? Well, if Harry had said the word Voldemort by accident, then it was always possible. Draco listened in to the conversation, desperate to try and find out anything he could.

Well that was no use, they were goblins speaking in gobbledegook, Draco thought as he spied on them from his vantage point in the hedge. Soon they had gone. Hmm, not great. Slowly Draco crawled out from under the hedge and dragged his newspapers with him. Where was everyone else? Now, he'd set off in the morning from over there, that's the way to go. In the distance he heard a faint calling. Was that his name? Could someone be calling for him? Draco carried on walking forwards and was suddenly hit full on by a flailing mass of arms which squeezed him into a hug.

'Where'd you go? We haven't seen you all morning.'

'I went to get the papers.' Said Draco, showing her the mass under his arm by way of proof.

'Where have you been you're muddy and cut. How do you get that from fetching the papers? And why didn't you tell anyone?'

'I'm sorry- I thought you lot would be sound asleep- you were snoring your heads off when I left.'

'Hm.'

Behind him Draco heard a noise of someone blundering through the undergrowth. He span round, wand at the ready.

'Bloody hell, put that away, mate.'

It was Ron.

'HARRY, WE'VE FOUND HIM!' Ron bellowed.

'Great idea, there's goodness knows who in this wood and you announce our presence to the world.'

'Yeah, but it does get Harry back. I said you could look after yourself, didn't I? I said he'd probably just gone for a walk or something. But _no_, we had to go looking for him.'

'Alright, calm down, Ron. Read the paper or something.'

'But we haven't got any. Oh. So that's where you went.'

'Yes. Hello Harry, you take these two. Let's head in.'

'What on earth for?'

'Well, there newspapers, right. There has been a major change of regime recently, hasn't there. So, if we find today's, that'll have some clues in it about what we should do. Anyway, you never know what you can learn from reading the paper.'

'You can when it's the Prophet- absolutely nothing. At least the Quibbler doesn't pretend to be serious.'

Back in the tent they sat down around the kitchen table and started to read. Draco had the most recent copy.

'Harry- one for your scrapbook here.' Draco said, showing the massive photo of Harry that was plastered over the front page, along with the caption **Undesirable Number One**.

'Thanks. Anything on why I'm undesirable?'

'Well, have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately? Sorry, too good to resist. Let's see. Surprise change of policy...new minister...ahh, here we go. For crimes against muggles including whole body inflation of an aunt.'

'Who'd have guessed it? You done in by _them_ for cruelty to muggles. Well, there's only one thing to do.'

'What's that?'

'Ignore it of course.'

'Guys.'

'Hermione?'

'Would you shut up for a moment? I think I've found something.'

'What?'

'Well, if you give me a moment I'm getting to it, aren't I?'

'Let's see. The audit of Gringotts bank has been completed by wizards William Weasley and Arthur Price. A complete list of everything stored in the vaults of the bank at this time has been submitted to the Ministry for evaluation. This annual report has gathered some controversy this year as it contains for the first time the detail of high security vaults, the pure-blood community has been outraged by this, which it describes as an unwarranted attack on traditional freedoms. A ministry spokeswitch, when asked for a comment, said that the ministry does not disclose any details and that the lists were being kept under protection in the record vaults of the ministry itself.

This does not engender any confidence in a ministry that has suffered several break-ins by dark wizards over the years, and whilst the vaults have been untouched so far, their position on the third floor next to the maintenance office hardly engenders much confidence in the system.'

'Great, but aside from a fine appreciation of a well-read third-rate piece of hackery, what are we supposed to get from that?' Ron asked.

'They've taken an audit of Gringotts. We've already decided it's a reasonably likely place to find a Horcrux –we just didn't have any way to find it before now.'

'You're not suggesting what I think you are, are you? You are, aren't you? You want us to break in to the ministry and steal from their vaults to get some information so that we can plan a raid on Gringotts. We've been a bad influence on you, Hermione. What happened to that nice girl- wouldn't say boo to a goose- we met for the first time on the Hogwarts express, who wanted nothing more than to find a toad?' Harry asked.

'Who says that she ever existed?' Hermione replied, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

'Can't say I've ever met her.' Draco said, earning himself a wallop from Hermione.

'Ow, what was that for?'

'You just said I wasn't a nice girl.'

'No, I just said you weren't a girl who wanted nothing more than to find a toad.'

'Oh.'

'You wanted to boss people around.'

'Do you enjoy being hit?'

'Erm, not really?'

'Good.' Thwack. Hermione hit Draco again, this time straight to the cheek.

'That'll leave marks that will.' Draco said rubbing it.

'Never mind- the ministry. How do we get in, how do we avoid being detected, how do we get into the vaults and how do we get out again?'

'A ghost could get in and out pretty easily. Anyone fancy becoming a martyr for the cause?' Ron joked.

'Maybe later.'

'Suit yourself.'

'Well, assuming we're keeping the dying to a minimum, how are we going to do it? I can't think of many places more dangerous for us than the ministry at the moment.'

'Well, we'd have to use disguises, that'll help won't it?'

'Yes, if I take my cloak as well that'll help to, but how to we even get into the vault. Do we know anything about it? Who built it?'

'Nothing. Senior ministry officials have access, I think.' Said Ron, 'Dad had to get something from there once and had to get permission from the minister himself.'

'I don't think we're going to get that somehow? Do you?'

'No chance. The big question is, which official are we going to impersonate?'

'Which offici_al_? So, you don't reckon we should all go in?'

'Not really, I mean, it'd be a bit obvious if four people were going to try and do it, wouldn't it? Far easier if only one person goes in- less to go wrong and less to lose if it does.'

'I suppose so. Who should we impersonate?'

'That's the tricky bit. It'll have to be someone who has access, won't it? That limits it severely.'

'Yeah, and I don't think we should impersonate the minister either- far too senior, people would notice him if he's somewhere he's not expected to be.'

'Yeah. That's a right nuisance, that is.'

'True. I've got a suggestion though.'

'Go on.'

'For the moment, I reckon it'd be the sensible thing to sit back, and read some newspapers- there's going to be loads on the change of minister in the prophet. If we can find out a bit about who's in, we might not even have to worry too much about investigating the ministry itself.'

'OK. Start with the ones we've got here?'

'Good a place as any.'

They sat in silence, reading, the only noises to be heard being the occasional sound of birds in the trees and the rustle of the newspapers.

'Have a look at this, Draco. Looks like your Dad's got his old job back- listen to this "The ministry has announced the return of Lucius Malfoy to the post of Permanent Secretary to the Minister for Magic. Forced to resign in disgrace due to a plot by Albus Dumbledore, Malfoy has been declared innocent of all charges and welcomed back to his former position."'

'Well, bully for him.'

'Hang on, this gives us a way in, doesn't it? Draco, have you ever taken an ageing potion?'

'No. Why?'

'I've just had an idea.'

A month passed. The invisibility cloak was heavily used by Ron to "borrow" some potions ingredients from an apothecary in Diagon Alley. It was a nuisance, as they could only steal one ingredient at a time, but before long, Hermione had all she needed to start brewing. Soon the tent was filled with the smell of decay associated with the ageing potion. Every day it approached completion, but still Hermione wouldn't tell anyone what her plan was. Then, one day, she did.

The next day Draco was up and about before dawn, unable to sleep because of nerves. He padded outside in his bare feet and went for a short walk, he reached the stream and gave his face a wash. This was going to be fine. There wouldn't be a problem. There was nothing to be nervous about.

Draco was only halfway back to the tent before he threw up. Maybe there was, Draco admitted to himself as he headed back inside to get a drink and have a quick shower. It wouldn't be long, and by the time Draco was dressed again, Hermione stood waiting for him.

'Well, are you ready?'

'I suppose.'

'You know what you have to do, right?'

'Of course. Do I look like I've got a memory problem?'

Hermione looked slightly hurt at this.

'Sorry, It's just I'm a little nervous about this.'

'Only to be expected. Stick to the plan and everything'll be okay.'

'I know.'

'Well, off you go. You've got plenty of time- non need to rush, just act casually.'

'See you, Hermione.'

'See you, Draco. Good luck.'

Draco pulled Hermione into a tight hug before turning around and leaving. The doors of the tent had barely shut to behind him when he apparated.


	51. Chapter 51

Keep calm. Now, first step, flush yourself in. Merlin's beard that sounded disgusting. Never mind. As he queued up he looked around him, outwardly confidant, inwardly terrified. Everyone else seemed slightly afraid too. That was probably a good thing. It meant his disguise was working. Let's see, pull the chain, step in and. Oh, he'd arrived. Draco looked around slowly, no need to appear rushed or confused, it would make him stand out like a sore thumb. Now, what was next- of course, head to the records office. First of all the lifts. Draco stalked across the atrium , trying to move as much like his father as he could remember, all around him heads bowed respectfully, desperately trying not to catch the eyes of anyone around him. Draco stepped into the lift.

'Ah, hello Lucius. You're in early.'

'So it would seem.' Draco said dismissively, echoing the curt tone that his father had always used to him. The man didn't say another word until he got off at his floor. From there Draco headed down to the records vault.

'Have you got the file I ordered?' He asked the guard outside.

'File, Sir? What file? We haven't heard about any file.'

'I need the Gringott's audit.'

'Can't have that, Sir. Need a signed order.'

'You know who I am, surely. Do you really wish to prevent the minister from accomplishing his aims. We all know what happens when that doesn't happen, don't we. Just nod. Yes, we do. The minister gets angry. And we know what happens when the minister gets angry, don't we. Yes, we do. Heads roll. Heads that are not always attached to their body's.'

'Very well, Sir. Carry on in. I'm sure the file you want can be found.'

Draco headed through the door, inside he found a young man sitting behind a high desk.

'How may I help you, Sir?' he asked, looking at Draco askew.

'The Gringott's audit.'

'Very well. If you would follow me into the vault, Sir.'

Draco said nothing as the young man unlocked the vast door and into the vault.

'If you will wait here, we need to seal the first door before we can open the second.'

'Get on with it, man.'

'Very good.'

The boy opened the second door and gestured Draco into the room within. It was full of miles upon miles of rolled up parchments each almost as thick as they were long. The other man gave a small cough and Draco turned around. Behind him was the one sight he did not want to see. A wand tip, pointed straight at him.

'Right. Who are you. I want to know.' The young man demanded

'Who do you think I am?'

'Not Lucius Malfoy, that's for certain. You look like him, sure enough, but you're not him. I'm not going to ask again. Who are you?'

'What do you think of the Dark Lord?'

'Answer my question.'

'Mine first.'

'I've got the wand.'

'Very well. My name is Malfoy.'

'No it isn't.

'Draco Malfoy.'

An eyebrow shot up at this.

'You've heard of ageing potions, I take it.'

'I see. Well, pleasure to meet you Mr Malfoy, I am Marcus Tullius Merlinus.'

'A pleasure to meet you, Marcus. Would it be tactless to ask if you were going to answer my question?'

'It might be considered tactless to ask, but I shall give you the answer you want. I do not support the Dark Lord.'

'Are you just saying that because you think that is what I want to hear, or because it is the truth?'

'It is the truth. Surely you know what my family does?'

'Of course, I was brought up properly, you know.'

'We'll see about that. Anyway, my father is rather being held under duress.'

'And you are being held hostage to keep him that way?'

'No. He's just celebrated his 173rd birthday, he's in no fit state to deny anyone anything. It is more the case that he is being held hostage to _my_ good behaviour.'

'But you're only, what sixteen? What harm could you do? You can't be a threat to _him_ can you?'

'The blood of Merlin runs in my veins, do you really think that I am as powerless as an average sixteen year old?'

'I suppose not.'

'You suppose correctly. I know more magic than you could possibly imagine. Having access to the library of Merlin doesn't hurt in that, of course.'

'It exists? I thought the library of Merlin was a fable - no-one's ever seen it.'

'Well, no-one who isn't a descendant of Merlin, that's for sure.'

'Indeed, and we know what a select group that is.'

'Precisely. But enough of me, you are here for something to assist in the defeat of the Dark Lord, aren't you?'

'You're not going to stop me?'

'No. There are some things worth risking everything for, and this is one of those things.'

'If you say so. May I ask a question?'

'Go ahead?'

'How did you know I wasn't my father?'

'You want to know that. Well, normally I'd allude to some my having some sort of mystic powers and each witch and wizard having their own unique magical signature, but in reality it's a lot simpler than that: the nose is wrong.'

'My nose?'

'Absolutely, definitely not the same as your father's. I had a good look at him yesterday when he was down here asking for the same roll you just asked for. And talking of which, here's your copy.'

'Thank you.'

'Not at all. I know what you are going to use it for.'

'How?'

'Mystic powers. Good luck, Mr Malfoy.'

Marcus showed Draco out of the vault and gave him a nod as if to say goodbye. Draco tucked the roll into the inside pocket of his robe and instantly regretted it. The thing was bulky and looked suspicious. Oh well, not much longer to go now. He was nearly out. This was the final step after all, escape with the list. Drat. He'd told the guard what he'd wanted on the way in and apparently he'd raised the alarm. In front of him stood a dozen, distinctly dodgy aurors, and Lucius Malfoy.

'Well, well, a most convincing likeness. How did you do it? Polyjuice potion?'

'No. Guess again.'

'I am not here to play games with you boy. I am sure my associates can get the truth out of you.'

'I doubt it.'

Bugger bugger bugger. What could he do? Thirteen, no, fourteen to one were not good odds any day of the week, particularly when he hadn't got his wand out yet. If only he could pull of a wandless spell to buy himself some time. No chance of that though. Draco had never been able to do that. Perhaps Marcus could lend a hand. Draco glanced back, only to find himself being studiously ignored. Well, no hope from that quarter. There was no way he could bluff his way out, was there? Well, perhaps if he had a very quick escape route? Was it worth giving apparition a try? If he could create a spot of confusion, perhaps it might be.

'Well? Are you going to come quietly, or are we going to have to force you?' The genuine Lucius asked.

'Come with you? Why should I go with an imposter?' Draco asked, a flash of inspiration coming to his mind. Certainly the aurors seemed confused.

'Well, are you going to arrest him or not?' Draco asked. The aurors were beginning to look at each other, seemingly they hadn't noticed the noses.

'Not me, arrest him, you fools, can't you tell he's the imposter? _I'm _me.'

'No, I am!' Draco insisted. The aurors turned to talk to each other, lowering their wands just a fraction. Now was the time to act. Thinking of the forest, Draco vanished before their eyes, just before ten stunning spells sailed through the spot where he'd just been.

'Who was supposed to be maintaining the anti-apparition jinx?' Lucius Malfoy asked, in frustration.

Panicked by the situation, it seemed Draco had not quite apparated as successfully as he had hoped. On the return to the forest he found himself popping back into existence upside down and halfway up a tree. Well, he seemed safe enough up here for now, but it was only a matter of time until someone worked out that they could trace the path of his apparition, even Umbridge had told them _that_ was possible. Never mind. For the moment at least, it was time to take a couple of deep breathes and calm down. It was also probably a good idea to work out why he was still in this tree. Oh, great, just what he needed, his feet stuck to the branch, that was a problem, wasn't it. Well, perhaps a second apparition wasn't the right idea. Waving his wand, Draco undid the laces of his shoes. It was only after he had been hit by the third branch on the way down that he wondered whether it mightn't have been his best idea.

Draco landed headfirst into a gorse bush. Well, at least it had broken his fall, but by the time Draco had pulled himself out of it he had scratches all over. Did he still have the summary? Sudden panic rose again in Draco's mind. Patting his breast pocket though, he realised everything was alright, the massive roll was still in there. Now all he had to do was find his way back to the tent. Now, where was he, the pine stand, that was obvious, although Draco wished it wasn't since with every step he took it seemed that he was treading on needles. Well, he was lucky to be alive. Now, which way to head? Now the big hill is that way, and he was in the pines, so he needed to head. Of course, that way. Draco walked along back to where he knew the campsite should be, his mind forcing his body on. He desperately needed to sit down. When he arrived to the spot where he knew they should be, he found nothing. They'd gone on without him. Even the tent had disappeared. He'd been abandoned.

Draco collapsed. His friends had left him, just like that. Had this all been a ploy so that he'd go off and get himself killed whilst they carried on regardless? They'd left him to lie here, bleeding and shaking. That was funny, where had that come from? The nerves, Draco supposed, he didn't think he'd been hit by a jelly-legs curse. No, that wasn't possible, but then, it wasn't possible that the others had gone on without him, and they had. Or had they? Draco wondered whether he was being slightly paranoid, or whether there was something more significant going on. Perhaps they'd had to move camp or something. That seemed more likely. Well, perhaps they left some signs? No, nothing obvious, well he couldn't blame them, the need for secrecy was obvious. How could he get back to the tent. Of course- he could summon his library to him, the direction the books came from would tell him where to go.

'_Accio_' Said Draco, thinking about the first book. It hit him on the back of the head and he turned round, rubbing it gently. So that's where they'd gotten to.

'You're back!'

'Yup. It got a bit hairy here and there, but I'm pretty much alright.'

'Good. That's something at least. Let's get you into the kitchen- we can get some hot water and clean you up a bit.'

'Thanks, Hermione. Any chance you can give me a bit of a hand? I'm not sure I trust my legs that much at the moment.'

'Alright.'

Hermione stuck two arms forward and Draco grabbed them. Hermione leaned back and somehow, between the two of them, they managed to get Draco back up onto his feet and into the kitchen, where Draco sat down rather heavily in one of the chairs.

'Bloody hell, mate. You look like you've been through the wars. What happened?' Ron asked.

'I ran into my Dad and a load of aurors.'

'Really, how did you escape?'

'Oh, I just apparated away.'

'Really? How did you get like this?'

'Fell out of a tree.'

'What?'

'Fell out of a tree.'

'We heard, Draco. It's just-how on earth did you get stuck up a tree?'

'Apparated badly.'

Hermione came back with a bowl of hot water and a couple of rags.

'Let's get these cleaned up.'

'Thanks.'

'Why did you apparate badly, any ideas?'

'One or two. I reckon it had something to do with the dozen aurors trying to get me.'

Draco sat back and shut his eyes whilst Hermione gently dabbed at the cuts on his face with the comforting, warm wet rag.

'Thanks Hermione.'

'No problem, Draco. Thanks for trying. Never mind about not getting the parchment.'

'What do you mean not getting it? I'd managed that before I ran into my father. It's here.' Draco said, tapping his pocket.

'Well, let's have a look then.'

'Take it.'

'Well, that's something at least. And you're safe too, thank goodness.'

'Safe.' Said Draco, the colour draining from his already pale face.

'What is it?'

'We're not safe. I apparated from the ministry, right in front of those aurors. They'll be able to track me here, and if I've been dripping blood everywhere it won't take a genius to work out where we are. We need to move.'

'Where?'

'Anywhere. Just, not here. Come on, let's get out while we can. Harry, can you handle packing the tent.'

'Sure thing.'

As Hermione and Ron carried Draco out of the tent Harry began to pack it away with a swish of his wand.

'Hurry up.'

Harry grabbed the tent bag and grabbed hold of Hermione, who apparated them swiftly away.


	52. Chapter 52

'So any more ideas about how to get into Gringotts?' Ron asked, for what must have been the thousandth time.'

'Not yet, but I'm sure we'll come up with something.'

'Yeah, right.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'Well, you're never going to do it, are you. We're here, risking life and limb trying to work out how to rob Gringotts. Don't you get it? It's impossible. Dumbledore's left you an impossible task top do. He hasn't even given you any special information What's the point?'

'If you'd quit moaning and start thinking it might go a bit faster.'

'Yeah, right. Thicky Ron Weasley, he never thinks does he? All he is is a waste of space. That's what you think. I don't even know why I'm wasting my time with you.'

'Then don't.' Harry spat. Ron reached for his wand and Harry went for his.

With one wave of his own wand, Draco disarmed the pair of them.

'Take your wands and get out. Don't come back in until you're prepared to be civil.' Draco ordered.

'No need to go anywhere Harry. I'm leaving. I've had it up to here with you lot. Frankly, Harry, you're clueless, Draco, you're a bastard and Hermione, as for you, I've had it up to here with you trying to be my mother. I'm off.'

'Ron. Come back, Ron.' Hermione yelled. The only reply she ever got was the stomp of angry footsteps and the swish of the tent door as it closed behind him. With one great, terrible crack, Ron apparated out of their lives. The four were reduced to a three.

'How could he do that?' Hermione asked herself, on the verge of tears. She sat down heavily on a chair, curled up in a ball and started to cry. Harry looked at Draco, not knowing what to do. Draco returned the look, giving Harry the stare which meant leave this to me. Nodding twice, Harry got up and quietly left. That left Draco there, needing to comfort a crying Hermione. Looking around, he wondered what to do. Well, a cup of tea would be a good place to start, something he could do whilst letting Hermione get some tears out of her system.

Great idea, but how to do it? With a flick of his wand, Draco lit the stove under the kettle. Well, that was the water done, now for the tea. That might prove a little more problematical. They'd been out of tea for days now which had run out at the same time as the rest of the food. Now, where could he get the tea from? Hang on, hadn't he stuffed some teabags in the bottom of his rucksack when he'd packed. Maybe. It was worth a look.

'_Accio teabag._' No luck, hang on, no. There it was, the teabag came flying round the corner and landed in Draco's hand. It was a limp thing, and lifeless, ordinarily he'd have thrown it away, but now, now it was needed. Draco dropped it in a chipped mug and waited for the kettle to boil. As soon as the shrill whistle began, Draco lifted the kettle off the heat and the noise died away instantly. He poured the water, extinguished the flames and fetched a teaspoon. There, he'd achieved the impossible for Hermione now – he'd made a cup of tea when there was no tea. Well, almost. Admittedly, the whole idea was somewhat less impressive than Draco had thought, but never mind. That was brewed enough. Ah. No milk. Never mind, not the most important bit of the cuppa ,w as it? No. Draco fished out the teabag and walked steadily over to Hermione, she was still crying, curled up in a ball and oblivious to him.

He tapped her on the shoulder.

'Hermione, would you like some tea?' Hermione uncurled from her ball, tears still running down her cheek, rushing to join the tears that had preceded it.

'What's that?' Draco noticed that her eyes were red.

'I just wondered if you fancied a cup of tea?'

'I didn't know we had any left.'

'We didn't have much left but. Here you go.'

'Thanks.' Hermione accepted the tea cautiously and began to take sips as he sat on the chair, curled up into a ball. Silence enveloped the room. At long last she spoke.

'Thanks Draco. Would you mind if I had some time to myself?'

'You sure?'

'Yes.'

'Alright then. Just call if you need anything. I mean anything.' Draco left Hermione in the kitchen and padded back to his room, where Harry was waiting.

'What do you think brought that on?'

'Ron, of course.' Draco said.

'What should we do? Get him back?'

'No, I'm not sure that would help. What we really need is something to take Hermione's mind off of it.'

'Any ideas?'

'Well, the Gringott's break-in n would be perfect. Pity Ron was right.'

'What about?'

'It's impossible to break into Gringotts. No one's ever done it before.'

'Right. No. Not right.'

'What do you mean?'

'You remember the philosopher's stone, right?'

'Of course I do, you know how much faff and bother we went through about that thing. Bit of a long time ago though, isn't it? And at any rate, what's that got to do with Gringotts?'

'Well, do you know how the stone got to Hogwarts?'

'No, do you?' Harry nodded.

'You remember the day we first met?'

'In Madame Malkin's. Yeah, I remember. I was a total arse.'

'Yeah. You improve on acquaintance though.'

'Thanks.'

'Well, before then I'd gone to Gringotts with Hagrid to get my money and, well, we visited another vault before we came back up to do the shopping.'

'You did?'

'Yeah. Hagrid took out a little package, That package was the philosopher's stone.'

'I see.' Said Draco, not really sure that he did.

'Well, later that day Quirell tried to steal it. He managed to break in It was all over the papers, wasn't it?'

'What, so you want us to break in to Gringotts using dark magic?'

'Yeah, I've had this plan sort of brewing for days, but I'd rather we had a different one.'

'So would I, but I don't think that we're going to find one. But do you think we can do it?'

'Don't be silly- you and Hermione are loads better at magic than bloody Quirell, it'll be a doddle.'

'But wasn't he using the dark arts?'

'Yeah, but at a guess, you will be too. After all, isn't that why you've been reading Dumbledore's book night after night? To try and learn something useful.'

'How do you know about that?'

'The wand light shines through the wall- it's only canvas you know, and you mutter to yourself when you read,'

'Sorry, why didn't you tell me I was keeping you up, I would've stopped.'

'I know, but it wasn't that bad. It's just, I've not been sleeping well of late.'

'The dreams?'

'The dreams. You-know-who is still after Gregorovitch. I can't help but dread what will happen if he finds him.'

'Not much I dare say. Not to you, anyway.'

'Here's hoping. How's Hermione?'

'She wanted to be left alone for a bit. I gave her a cup of tea, but I think we're going to have to be extra nice in the next couple of days. After all, think how you'd feel if that was Ginny rather than Ron who'd just run off. How would you feel?'

'Point taken. We should definitely have a look at the plan for Gringotts tomorrow then.'

'Yes. Who knows, it might even take our minds off the food situation for a while.'

'Unlikely.'

'Well, you never know. Perhaps we can try a bit more fishing, you never know, we might catch something tomorrow.'

'You don't blame me, do you?'

'What on earth for?'

'Ron running off. I know you were all very disappointed that I didn't manage to catch anything. I just thought that, maybe, if I'd caught something and we'd had a proper dinner he might not have run off like that.'

'Don't blame yourself Harry, this has been brewing ever since we ran out of food, it's nothing to do with you.'

'But if I had...'

'You can if and but your way to anything, Harry. Anyway, it's not your fault, it's his. You don't see me running off, do you?'

'I suppose not.'

'And do I like eating any less than Ron does?'

'Erm. No, I suppose not.'

'So, is the lack of food the main cause for him running away?'

'I don't know.'

'The answer's no, Harry. It's not your fault, it's not even his, he's just not thinking straight.'

Draco fell asleep that night trying to persuade himself that Ron wouldn't have run away if he hadn't told him to go. It wasn't Harry's fault was it? No, Draco felt that the blame was firmly his own.

The next morning Draco woke up early. Yawning, he walked through to the kitchen, where a sleeping Hermione was curled up in the same seat he had left her in last night. Well, at least she'd got some, that would help. Certainly, he'd always felt more able to ignore things after a good night's sleep. A new morning always brought a fresh start, although, thought Draco, if that's smell's me, then perhaps I need a bath. Oh sweet mother of Merlin it was. When did I get this bad? Perhaps magical cleaning isn't all it's cracked up to be, Draco thought as he plodded off to the bathroom which was up a small flight of steps at the back of the tent. Sliding the bolt across the one solid door in the place, Draco stripped off and began to run the bath, first the hot water, lots of that to help heat up the vast cast iron bath tub. Draco set everything up where he'd be able to reach it, his wand near him, his clothes safe from any potential splash and the soap by the side of the bath. Hmm, that was enough hot, time to add some cold. Not too much though. Well, it looked like it was going to be a nice day, if the glow of the dawn through the walls of the tent was anything to go by. There we go, enough water, time to turn the taps off. Draco carefully dipped one foot in the water and then immediately pulled it out again. Bloody hell that was hot. Never mind, it would soon cool down, it was just a case of mind over matter. Draco put the foot back in. Much better. Still hot, but this time only slightly unbearable. Lifting one foot off the bathmat Draco let the other foot join its counterpart. Hmm, that was funny, they felt like they were at different temperatures, the first foot feeling comfortable, the second as if it had just entered the fiery blast of a furnace. Well, that was soon going. Draco sat down gently in the bath. Apparently it was only his feet that felt the blast of the heat. Slowly he lowered himself ever more into the bath until first his thighs touched the water, and then he was sitting, hunched up, on the bottom of the bath. Draco stretched out, sending each leg forward in an independent exploratory effort to the hot deeps beyond. That was better. Draco could just feel the heat raging through his body, gently loosening every stiff joint and knotted muscle. Now, where was that damned brush? Ah, there. Draco lathered it up and started to scrub, first his legs, then his arms and chest. Then there was a noise outside.

'_Alohomora._' Hermione's voice sounded. The bolt slid across and the door began to swing open. Draco reached for his wand and pointed it at the bath water.

'_Delitesco._' The water darkened to give Draco an opaque cover as Hermione waltzed in.

'Locking a door is just throwing down a gauntlet to you, isn't it?'

'Oh, what? Sorry Draco, just wanted to get my hairbrush. Enjoying your bath?'

'Very nice.' Draco carried on scrubbing his chest, the top half of which was sticking out above the all-concealing water.

'Is there any way I can make up barging in to you?'

'No, don't worry about it. No. Hang on, there is something you can do for me.'

'Anything. Just name it.'

'You couldn't give my back a bit of a scrub, could you? It's just I can't reach most of it for obvious reasons.'

'Sure. Hand the brush over then.' Hermione said, walking over to the bath. 'Oh, you really are a gentleman, aren't you, Draco?'

'I do try to be. Have you seen Harry yet?'

'Today?'

'Yes. Would you mind going a bit lower?' Draco asked, bending forwards.

'Sure. He said that you two had come up with a plan for Gringotts. Care to share?'

'Certainly. Ooh, that's good. Well, he said something about Quirell using the dark arts to break in. Harry reckons we should do the same.'

'Really? Do you think you're up to that?'

'I don't know. I think we should try sneaking in as far as possible, but there's no telling what's really going to happen. I think the general consensus was that we should all go in, after all, we might need some help from you when it comes to breaking through the defences of Gringotts.'

'Which are?'

'Haven't you ever been down to the vaults before?'

'No, I haven't as a matter of fact.'

'A pity you'll be visiting for the first time in such circumstances. It really is a rite of passage going to a Gringotts' vault for the first time, even if it isn't your own. Anyway, there's a sort of cart thing which can only be driven by a Gringotts' goblin, then you've got to find the right vault- that's easier than it sounds, they're all in numerical order, vault one down the bottom, vault something-or-other up the top, then you've got to get past the security measures. The lower security ones just need a key, the higher ones need an employee of the bank to open it and a key. Then lower down you get to all sorts of things. My father took me to his vault once, that's pretty low down, and that had a dragon guarding it.'

'A dragon. You think there's going to be a dragon.' Hermione said, despairingly. She had stopped scrubbing.

'Hopefully it'll be a dragon. I've heard rumours of what protects the lower vaults. All sorts of rumours. Manticores, Basilisks. An army of the living dead. I'm fairly sure they're nonsense, but there are definitely dragons, not to mention we're going a lot deeper the family vault. Much deeper.'

'Great. Any ideas how we're going to get past the dragon?'

'Without a Gringott's goblin on our side, no idea. Perhaps the imperius curse might help, but personally, I reckon that a somewhat more vicious back-up plan would be useful.'

'That's a bit unnecessary, isn't it? Couldn't we just, I don't know, send it to sleep or something?'

'Well, I'd rather be safe than sorry. This is war Hermione, a war for the fate of the wizarding world, and if a whole raft of dragons stood in our way, I wouldn't hesitate to destroy them all.'

'But surely...'

'No. The essence of war is violence, Hermione, moderation in war isn't kindness, it's just stupidity. I know you mean well, but we've got to be prepared.'

'Of course.' Hermione said, slightly upset by Draco's harsh reply. She turned her back on him to leave

'Hermione.'

'Yes?'

'Thanks for doing my back.'

'Not a problem. See you downstairs in a moment. We'll have to really get working if we're going to have to get past dragons.'


	53. Chapter 53

An hour later, Draco pulled himself out of the bath, banished the remaining water with a wave of his wand and dried himself off. That felt better. It just did. With another wave of his wand to clean the bath, Draco dressed and headed downstairs.

'So glad you could join us.'

'Indeed. What's the rush?'

'We were just planning on how to break in to Gringotts, weren't we? Your input would be welcomed.'

'What do you think I've been doing up there? Playing battleships?'

'Possibly.'

'Well, I wasn't actually. I was thinking on the problem.'

'And?'

'Well. It seems to me that getting _in_ to Gringotts is the easy bit. It's getting out you have to worry about.'

'Can't we get out the same way we came in?'

'Well, if you think you can fight your way out through all the aurors and half the goblins in the country, go ahead. I think we need to allow for some subtlety, even if it is blended with a hefty load of brute force and ignorance.'

'You might have a point there.'

'Of course I do. I've spent hours thinking about this.'

'If you say so.'

'I have. Yesterday night and this morning in the bath.'

'All right. We believe you. But we've had another idea.'

'You have?'

'Yeah. Gringott's is a big'un, and no mistake, so we were wondering whether it might not be worth trying somewhere else first.'

'Oh?' Draco asked.

'Godric's Hollow.' Draco raised an eyebrow.

'Well, it sort of seems like it's worth a try. We've got a theory Dumbledore might have left us something there.'

'What?'

'Well, he left Harry the sword of Gryffindor in his will but the ministry withheld it. WE were wondering if it might have been put there.'

'Doesn't seem that likely to me. More likely that _he_ will have placed a trap there.'

'And it's where my parents are buried.'

'Ok. When are we leaving?'

'That was quick.'

'Family's important.'

'We can come back here afterwards though, can't we?' Hermione asked.

'Seems like a good idea to me.'

'It'll be nice to get out. Anyone got any money?'

'Not on me- I've only got what's in Gringotts.'

'That's not much use then, is it?'

'Not really. Hermione?''

'I've got a little bit, but nothing you could buy anything with, just shrapnel.'

'I've got a little bit. Perhaps there'll be a village shop we can get something from.'

'Maybe.'

'Give us a moment, I want to get changed.'

'Fine. Meet you here in a couple of minutes, I've got something I want to fetch myself.'

'Ok. Draco, you couldn't grab my coat while you're there could you?'

'Sure thing.'

The next few minutes were all business and action as the tent was filled with a sense of purpose. Finally, something to do that might be useful and didn't involve sitting and thinking, slowly getting thinner and hungrier. They stepped out of the tent, grabbed hold of each other and apparated north-west.

A thin covering of powdery snow covered the ground and more was falling gently around them, filling the village with a deathly silence. Harry led the way in silence towards the church. They passed through the kissing gate at the entrance to the churchyard and stopped. Harry started to look for his parents graves. Hermione at length decided to help him, whilst Draco walked up to the church itself.

The great building, made out of flints and mortar towered high above the rest of the village. Slowly Draco opened the door. No-one was in, not even the vicar. Draco slowly walked round. In one corner stood a large organ, filling up a large space. No-one would mind if he had a play, would they? Draco didn't think they would and slowly opened the case, to reveal two manuals within. Well, there was nothing else for it, was there. Draco pulled himself onto the stool and pulled out a few stops. Yes, that one, no, not quite. Maybe, yes. Before long the organ was set up as Draco himself wanted it to be and he started to play. For Draco, the passage of time went unnoticed as the steady succession of crotchet to quaver and quaver to crotchet continued. Draco didn't notice when the others came in to join him, nor when the churchwardens or congregation arrived for the evening service. Draco played and played until, at long last, the village organist came to displace him.

'That was very well played, young man. Thank you.'

'Thank you for letting me play your organ.'

'You're welcome.'

Draco hurried out, slightly embarrassed as he looked around him. Before long, he had found Harry and Hermione waiting in the porch for him to come out.

'I never knew you were musical, Draco.'

'Oh, I've been playing for as long as I can remember. I started out with the piano and progressed to the organ when I was about ten.'

''It was really nice, you know. It made me feel sad though, what was it called?'

'Called? I don't really know, I just sort of made it up on the spot.'

'Wow.'

'Did you find, you know, what you were looking for.'

'Yes. And something else rather funny too. Come and have a look at this.'

Hermione dragged Draco through the churchyard to an ancient yew. Beneathing the spreading boughs was an ancient headstone.

'Look at that symbol. Any ideas?'

'No, I don't think I've seen it before.'

'We have.'

'Where?'

'Firstly it's in the tales of Beedle the Bard, you know, Dumbledore left me a copy.'

'Right.'

'And then Xenophilius Lovegood was wearing it at the wedding. Krum said it was Grindelwald's sign, but this gravestone is ancient. What's it doing here?'

'Beats me. Couldn't be a coat of arms or something, could it. Or just a coincidence, it's all geometric shapes after all, nothing that couldn't just be something muggle.'

'I suppose so, might be worth looking into though.'

'Yeah, is there anything else we need to do?'

'Not need, but I'd like to have a look and see if we can find where _it_ happened. This is where everything started for me.' Harry said. Draco understood, for Harry this trip was about finding out where he came from, who he was, far more than it was about defeating the dark lord. The snow fell in increasingly large flakes, settling on the gravestones in the churchyard and the roves of the houses in the village. Slowly the three wandered down the main road of the village. Then they saw it. In front of them stood one house that wasn't like the rest. The top floor had been completely destroyed, with only a few timbers left to indicate where the roof had once been. This must have been it. Draco stood, horrified by the damage that magic could do. To him it had always been something useful, constructive. Yet it could do things like this, leaving his friend bereft of family from a young, tender age. They approached the ruins slowly and as if sensing their presence, a golden pillar ascended from the ground until it was level with their eye line. On it was a simple description of the house, describing in clinical, almost cruel, language what had happened here. It was barely legible however, for all the graffiti that had been written on top, saying things like "Support Harry Potter" and "Long live the chosen one."

All this. So many.' Harry stopped, unable to find the right words to choke past the building tears. There was only one thing Draco could do. He put a supporting arm around Harry, who turned around and started to cry on his shoulder. Awkwardly, Draco put the other round and patted Harry on the back, making "there there" noises. Hermione came over and gave Harry a hug from the other side and for a good while they stood there, like a small huddle of giant penguins, gently swaying as their tears began to flow. Draco stopped crying first. As he blinked the tears from his weepy eyes he saw a woman watching them. A woman who looked like a huddle all by herself.

'Who's that?' Draco asked. Startled the others turned around. Then the woman started beckoning at them. Who could it have been? It was Harry who worked it out first.

'Miss Bagshot?'

The woman nodded and beckoned again. Was this where Dumbledore had left it? With her? You never knew. The old woman shuffled along the street, her feet barely picking themselves up, instead just skating along the surface. From the distance they heard the church clock strike the hour. Eight o'clock.

At long last they were at Bathilda's home. The front door had been left oddly open, as if it was hanging off its hinges. The inside of the house smelt foul, rich with a stench that Draco couldn't place. He and Hermione looked about downstairs, seeing if they could come up with anything. Rooting about in the kitchen Draco found a bag of onions and a small sack of potatoes which loked rather livelier than they were supposed to. Suddenly he heard Hermione call.

'Draco. Come and look at this. What do you think this is?'

'It's a photo.'

'Not that, look closer, there's something on it. I think it's blood.'

'Blood? Yes, that's blood alright. Why do you think it's.' Suddenly a thought hit Draco.

'I don't think that's Bagshot upstairs. Come on. Let's go and see what's happening.

eAs they climbed the stairs they heard strange hissing noises.

'Not good. Come on.'

They ran the last few steps just in time to see a vast snake emerge from Bagshot's clothes and dive straight at Harry, who despite the shock, dived to one side. Whipping his wand out, Draco cast a spell at the great snake, which bounced off as harmlessly as a stick off a troll. That wasn't good. Slowly the snake turned to face them. Harry slowly picked himself up from where he had fallen and snuck quietly as they snake slowly rounded on Draco and Hermione.

'Hermione. You get Harry out of here. Apparate home. I'll deal with the snake. Hermione reached out to touch Harry and the two of them were gone. The noise distracted the snake, allowing Draco to make a run for it downstairs. Nagini resumed the chase quickly. Draco however was faster and jumped down the stairs. He rushed through back to the kitchen and slammed the door shut. He leaned against it with all of his weight and breathed a sigh of relief. Now there were two inched of solid oak between him and the snake he felt better, although he soon realised that where the snake was, her master was never far behind. Damn! Draco felt for his wand. Where was it? Ahh, there. Thank goodness, he hadn't lost it.

'_Colloportus_' That was better, the door was shut fast now. Draco dropped the knife and started to rummage in the cupboards. There were the spuds and the onions. He might as well take them, it wasn't as if they'd be wanted by anyone now. Was there anything else though? Aside from a few jars of pickle, there was nothing without a fur coat. Well, what he'd already got would be a good start. There was a hissing noise outside. Draco reacted quickly, apparating away as the door imploded in front of him.

He arrived at the tent, still clutching onto the bags of potatoes and onions, with a large splinter sticking out of his leg. Crimson was flowing around it and every move Draco made hurt.

'Guys? You there?' There was no reply. 'Come on. I need some help here.' Draco said, almost screaming. The only noise to answer him was that of the wind in the trees. This was no good. No good at all. Draco dropped the vegetables and limped inside. Where were they? They should have been back ages ago. He looked around. Clearly someone had been there. Too late he turned around to find a man in black robes standing behind him.

'Gotcha.' He snarled.


	54. Chapter 54

The man apparated Draco away.

'Let's take you to join your horrible little friends shall we? You look like you should be at school. Who are you?'

Draco remained silent.

'Very well. I know where you belong. He'll make you speak alright.' The man chuckled to himself. He tied a blindfold around Draco and apparated away again.

Draco's leg was still dripping with blood when they arrived outside of a very familiar house. Draco was escorted up the long drive to the manor that had once been his home. White peacocks still waltzed about the grounds, which were as immaculate as ever. In many respects, it looked as though nothing had changed. Greyback knocked on the door three times and a frightened face opened it. The elf bowed and welcomed them in. Behind the man's back, Draco gave Dobby a small smile and a look that clearly meant shut up. The door to the smoking room opened and out walked a man Draco knew only too well.

'Greyback. What have I told you about bringing guests in still dripping? It took months to wash the blood off of the carpets last time.'

'Sorry, Sir. I'll.'

'You'll do nothing. I'll handle this. Dobby. Remove the lump and stop the bleeding. Then tidy up what this boy has dripped everywhere.'

Draco's long hair was covering his face, a fact he was thankful for. Surely his father would have recognised him otherwise.

'Well done Dobby. I'm surprised. Take him to join his friends.' The elf led Draco down to the cellar. Draco had loved hiding there as a child, its cool damps brought back memories. Happy memories, of playing hide and seek with the elves whilst his parents were out. Draco walked in and the door clanged shut behind him.

'Who's that?' The voice sounded familiar.

'Luna?'

'That's me. Who are you?'

'Give us a sec.' Draco said, thinking. His hands had been tied behind his back by the elf, but he could still wriggle them a bit. Could he manage this?

'_Lumos._' Slowly a ball of light began to fill the room. It was a pitiful sight. Spread out in front of him were four people. Harry, Hermione and Luna he knew, and in the distance was someone he didn't recognise.

'You've got your wand?'

Hermione asked.

'No.'

'Then how?'

'It is possible, Ms Granger, to go without a wand if one know what one is doing.' Came the croak from the unknown man.

'But that need a really powerful wizard.' Hermione replied.

'Shall we worry about that later?' Luna asked. 'Has anyone seen the nail? I think it was by the water jug.'

Ollivander passed the nail slowly to Luna, who carefully hacked away at the ropes keeping Draco's arms immobile.

'I haven't seen you in years.' Draco said, out loud, although very much to himself.

'What do you mean?'

'The nail.' Draco said, flipping out of his private world and back into the real one. 'I had a lot of fun with that when I was younger. Used to come down here and bang it into the wall over there, pretend I was digging for treasure.'

'Really? Well, I think you may have saved us a lot of discomfort then. Thank you.' Ollivander said. 'You don't know any ways out of here do you?'

'Other than that door? No, there's not one. I've looked, believe me.'

'Pity. I don't suppose you'd be able to magic it open would you?'

'I don't think so. This light took enough effort and that's easy compared with unlocking the door.'

'I suppose so. Pity. Well, nice to meet you again, young Mr Malfoy.'

'Call me Draco.'

'Of course.'

Draco turned his attention to Harry.

'What happened to you Harry? You look awful.'

'Hermione did it. When they turned up she cast a stinging jinx so I couldn't be recognised.'

'Good thinking. Probably saved your life. Well done Hermione.'

'It was nothing.'

'If you say so. How did you get found?'

'I said it.' Harry said simply.

'What?'

'The V-word.'

'Oh Harry. Oh well, we're still alive aren't we. No-one's broken anything, and we're all here together. I even got healed into the bargain, although it was apparently so I wouldn't drip on the carpet.'

'What?'

'Of course, you'd left before it happened.'

'What?'

'Oh, right, yeah. Well, after you left I ran downstairs and locked myself in the kitchen. It kept the snake out, but then V-word turned up and blasted the door. I had a massive oak splinter stuck in my leg. Must've been a foot long.'

Suddenly they heard footsteps on the stairs, Draco hurriedly extinguished the light before the door opened, to reveal Lucius Malfoy.

'You. The last one to get here. Come with me.'

Thank goodness, he still hadn't been recognised. And there was his wand.

'It's been a long time, hasn't it Draco?'

'I suppose it has.'

'Well, sit down. We're going to have a chat.'

'Great.' Said Draco, his tone making it clear that this was not at all the case.

'No need to take that tone with me young man.'

'Sorry, I'm just not in the habit of having conversations with the lackeys of mass-murderers.'

'Nor am I in the habit of talking to blood traitors. You and I both know Draco that your friends are doomed. Even if the rogue individual who impersonated me at the ministry turns up, he won't be able to beat me. No, you're quite in my power.'

'Rogue individual. That's no way to talk about your son.'

'I have no son. Not since you were sorted into Gryffindor. I had to, it's all in your Grandfather's will you see. No heirs from Gryffindor, just Slytherin. I've been working to undo all that though. All you have to do is give me Harry Potter and you can come back.'

'No.'

'I'm Sorry?'

'I said no. I'm not going to give up my best friend to a man who wants him dead. Even if that man is my father.' Draco's eyes narrowed as he looked at his father. He never had been a good man had he?

'Your mother would be upset, were she still with us.'

'She's dead. You wanted another heir and you forced her to have one! She's dead because of you!' Draco spat.

'At that Lucius leapt from his seat and came at Draco, all magic was forgotten in his fit of anger. He charged at Draco and leapt at him, his hands reaching for Draco's neck. The chair Draco was sitting on fell backwards and Draco hit the floor, knocking the air out of him. He was feeling woozy, but that didn't distract him from the throttling, squeezing fingers around his throat. Those fingers which were determined to kill him, to remove the stain from the Malfoy tree. Draco's lungs burned as he fought for breath, no matter how he gasped, none came. His vision was going blurry. This was the end. Slowly Draco reached out, to try and fight back. His hands, unable to find their target began to flop. They settled on something wooden, cold and hard. The tears in Draco's eyes were blocking his vision, but everything else was clear as his brain desperately tried to record his final moments. Through his fingertips Draco felt every swirl and knot of the wood. He clenched his fingers around it and hit his father with the first curse he thought of. The force of the blast sent each sliding across the room, Lucius one way and Draco the other.

Draco woke to find himself staring into a pair of large, globe-like eyes.

'Master?'

'Dobby? What the hell happened. I'm feeling like a sack of trampled rose-compost.'

'You fought, Master.'

The memories started to come back to him. The friendly tone of the conversation had been ripped asunder by the unspoken hatreds that ran just beneath the surface. Lucius, never again would that man be father to Draco, had tried to strangle him and then. Then he had cast a spell.

'What happened to him, Dobby?'

'Master shouldn't look.'

'Dobby. Tell me what happened.'

'He's dead, Master.'

'Dead?'

'Yes, Master. There was a flash of purple light. And.' The elf fell silent, unable to describe what he had seen. Draco felt sick.

'Dobby, get the others from the cellar up here.'

'Yes, Master.'

Draco got to his feet slowly and rubbed his neck. It felt sore and his throat was dry. In the corner of the room was the sideboard. Draco walked over to it stiffly and bent down to pick out a particularly fine bottle of gin. Hmm that smelt good. Draco poured himself a generous measure into a cut glass tumbler. It felt just comfortable in his hand. Quickly Draco knocked back the fiery liquid. That was better. Armed with some Dutch courage, he headed over to where the body of his father lay, to look on the full consequences of his actions. He stood there for a full five seconds before he had to look away. The man's body had been turned inside out. Damn Dumbledore, it was all his fault. Why had he left him a book full of such curses as these?

'Draco? What's going on?' The familiar voice of Hermione struck his eardrums and barely registered. He had killed his own... No that man had been no father to him.

'Sorry?' He said at length, something, somewhere gently reminding him that Hermione had spoken.

'Was that?'

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry, Draco.'

'Don't be. He was nothing to me. What are you doing here?'

'Some elf called Dobby let us go. I assume that you did that.'

'Why?'

'Well, Dobby said that "the Master has said to let you go". I assumed he meant your Father, apparently he meant you.'

'What was that last bit?'

'Apparently he meant you.'

'How though?'

'What?'

'I was disowned Hermione. How can Dobby be calling me master and be accepting commands from me? He shouldn't be doing that.'

'I suppose not. What are you going to do about it?'

'Do? I don't know Hermione. I can't think right at the moment. This morning I woke up in a tent in the middle of nowhere and now I'm back here and I've accidentally used the Dark Arts to kill my own father. It's all happening so fast. I think I want to be alone for a bit, Hermione.'

'Fine. First we've got to go back to the tent though. Have you found your wand?'

'No.'

'That's odd. It wasn't with ours. Did _he_ have it?' Hermione asked pointedly. Draco went to look. Yes, there was the handle of his wand. Draco pulled at it and it came free easily. It was only when Draco went t give it a wave that he noticed something wrong. It was too light. A closer look showed that the end had fallen off. No. Draco scrabbled around looking for the other half, but eventually had to conceded defeat. It was probably never going to show up. Draco's head fell. This was the pits, he'd started the day happy and now he ended it wandless, fatherless and hopeless. What could he do now? He wasn't any use without a wand and even Ollivander, even Merlin couldn't repair it without the other half. Sadly Draco threw the useless stump of wand away and went to join Hermione.

'Come on. Let's head back. Harry's waiting in the hall. We'll have to move camp again, but it shouldn't take long.'

'Yeah.' Said Draco sadly. What was the point. What sort of wizard was he now? Without a wand he could barely produce light, something even the most useless first year could do by this point in the term. Why did everything go against him? Sometimes Draco felt that some sort of God was out there, making fun at his expense, but now he was just feeling empty. Draco was fairly sure he had left his heart behind him when he arrived at the tent. There were the potatoes and the onions, they'd seemed like a valuable prize earlier this evening, but now. Now they were just things. Little things that didn't matter. They moved the campsite quickly, and Harry soon got the tent up and they went to sleep just as the sun was peaking above the horizon. Draco was haunted in his dreams by flashes of purple light and the image of his father dying at his hands. What had he done? He slept fitfully, tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. In the end though, he gave up trying to sleep and went to the kitchen and sat down in the big armchair. Sitting there he tried desperately not to cry. Real men don't cry he told himself, but in the end the tears rolled down his cheeks. Suddenly he smiled, as the thought crossed his mind that at least no-one would see him crying, but it didn't last long and he cried until the tears wouldn't come any more.


	55. Chapter 55

In the morning he awoke to the smell of frying onions and potatoes. He opened his eyes and saw Hermione standing at the stove. Presumably, she was doing the cooking.

'Good morning.' Draco said lifelessly.

'Afternoon more like it, sleepyhead.'

'Already?'

'Well, yes. Ready for some breakfast?'

'Breakfast. But you said?'

'Fine, lunch then. Want some?'

'If there's some going, I suppose so.' Draco's gloomy attitude bore through all and even the food didn't cheer him up much.

'Cheer up, Draco. We're all here aren't we? There's still hope.'

'If you say so.'

'What is with you today Draco? Ever since you woke up you've been a right sour-faced misery-guts. Why are you feeling so miserable?'

'I don't know. Everything really. Last night I lost my father and my wand at the same time. It's not a nice feeling.'

'Well. We can't do anything about your father Draco, and I don't think it would be a good idea if we could, but we might be able to do something about your wand.'

'Don't tell me you stashed Ollivander in your bag.'

'No, don't be silly, he wouldn't fit. I have got that make-a-wand kit you bought me for Christmas however.'

'That's for you though.'

'Yes. And I want to use it get you a new wand. If I make it will that be good enough for you? At least that way I've got some use out of it.'

'Ok then.'

'Well, let's have a go then, shall we?' Hermione pulled the box out of the bag, opened it and pulled out the instructions.

'Right, the first thing we need to do is find some wandwood, apparently. The best thing is to harvest your own, and it's got to be the right type. The type of wood is determined by. That's complicated; I always wondered what the measurements Ollivander did were for, now we know. Then we need to get the core- well, the kit comes with a selection of popular cores apparently, so no trouble there. Once we've got the wood and selected the appropriate core, we have to use one of the special drills to make a hole and then insert the core. Afterwards we seal it with one of the caps provided and Bob's your uncle.'

' we get going?'

'Lets.'

It took a long time to identify the right wood, oak and the right core, unicorn horn, but it took even longer to trace down a suitable source of the wood itself.

'It's all down to fashion you see, there used to be wand woods everywhere- no self-respecting wizarding family would be without one, then a fashion for lawns and rose-beds came in, and all the wand woods were chopped down. A complete disaster for the bowtruckles of course, but there you are. Here's only one wand wood left that I know about.'

'Where's that.'

'The palace.'

'The palace? Who lives there?'

'Several people, but the family that owns the place is the Merlinus's.'

'Who are they? I don't think I've heard of them.'

'I 'm surprised. They're the most influential magical family in the country, some would say the world. It's the way they claim direct line of descent from Merlin that has something to do with it, I expect but what they're really known for is that they hold the royal prerogative for magical Britain.'

'Come again?'

'Well, you know all the muggle laws and things have to be signed off by the monarch?'

'Yeah.'

'Well, when they signed the International Statute of Secrecy, it was decided that the monarch couldn't be told about the wizarding world, so they set up a magical viceroyalty. They've got it, you see.'

'So, why aren't they dealing with he-who-must-not-be-named? And why is the minister so important?'

'Well, for one thing, the head of the family is under house arrest and his only son- nice guy, about our age- doesn't want to do anything that could get his dad killed.'

'Understandable, I suppose. It's why I cast memory charms on my parents.'

'What did you do that for?'

'I just wanted them safe. I've sent them to Australia so they'd be safe. I'm hoping that I'll be able to find them one day, but...'

'You will, Hermione.' Draco said, putting his hand on hers. 'You will. I'll help if I survive, that is, if you want me to.'

'Thanks, Draco. But that feels a long time off at the moment. We haven't really done much since the ministry fell, have we?'

'I don't know, it's been a while, sure, but then again, we've made all sorts of progress haven't we. We know where to find one of the blasted horcruxes, Harry reckons the snake's one and that'll be near _him_ so we can't get that one 'til last and who knows where the last one is. We'll get them though, one at a time. Then we can get rid of the dark lord, and everything will go back to normal.'

'Will it though?'

'It will, in a hundred years nobody will be able to tell that this has ever happened.'

'That's rather a long time in the future though.'

'Is it? I dare say we'll still be alive. Dumbledore was well over a hundred when he died. Merlinus senior- the viceroy that is, is about to celebrate his hundred and seventy-fourth birthday. No, I think there's a good chance you'll be there.'

'That's something. So, how are we going to get hold of this wandwood then?'

'We ask, preferably the young one.'

'Will he let us?'

'I think so. He gave me some help finding the audit scroll in the ministry. He didn't raise a finger to get me out of trouble, but I think he supports the cause. It might be worth it, don't you think?'

'Could be, could be. This time though, I'd like to come to, even if Harry doesn't.'

'Should my ears be burning?' Harry asked, as he opened the door.

'Not really, we're just talking about getting Draco a new wand. Draco knows where we can get some wood, but there might be some risk involved. I was saying that Draco and I should go, but that it might be a good idea for you to stay here.'

'Ok, I don't mind. I was hoping to have a look at that book on Dumbledore you picked up yesterday. It might be by Rita Skeeter, but it might have something useful in it, you never know.'

'Book? What book?'

'It's a biography of Dumbledore, Draco; I found it at Godric's Hollow and picked it up. What with that snake and all, I didn't have time to get rid of it. Lucky it wasn't stolen when those snatchers came really.'

'You can say that again. I can't believe they didn't nick any of my books too. Perhaps they can't read.'

'Well, I've got Rita. Are you two heading off then?'

'What, now? Well, I suppose we could. You up for it Hermione.'

'Sooner it's started, the sooner it's done.'

'See you later then Harry. If we're not back by nightfall tomorrow, move camp and stuff.'

'See you.'

Draco and Hermione headed outside and Hermione grabbed Draco's arm.

'Well. I don't know where we're going. You don't mind taking the lead, do you?'

'Not at all. Come on then.'

The Viecory's palace was the most spectacular building had ever seen- it was almost as big as Hogwarts and yet it had none of the oppressive nature of the great grey stones and norman arches of the school. Its stone, which looked almost golden in the gentle glow of the sun, was cut delicately in fluted columns, in between which great windows sat. Something about the symmetry of the building gave Draco the impression of a quiet, understated dignity waiting patiently for a chance to show itself. The gravel crunched under their feet as they walked across the drive to the great front door. Grasping the heavy knocker firmly, Draco rapped smartly on the door three times. Then he stood, waiting for someone to appear.

'Hello.'

'Hello, is Marcus in?'

'I am sure we can find him.' A tall man replied. There was something about him that engender respect.

'Marcus! Someone at the door for you.' The man cried out. From outside, Draco saw a pair of legs rapidly pumping as their owner came down the stairs. On top of the legs was a body that Draco recognised. It walked to the door.

'Hello, I don't believe we've met.'

'I understand we have, Marcus, now, I wasn't wearing this body at the time...'

'Draco Malfoy I take it.'

'The one and only.'

'Good to see you got out alright. I'm sorry I couldn't be more use, but I'm sure you understand how it is.'

'Absolutely.'

'So, are you going to introduce me to this enchanting friend of yours?'

'Of course. Marcus Merlinus, this is Miss Hermione Granger, my friend.'

'A pleasure to meet you Ms Granger, Marcus Tullius Merlinus at your service' Saying these words the boy bent down to kiss Hermione's hand. Coming up he made eye contact and smiled. Hermione began to blush.

'A pleasure to meet you.'

'Was there anything I can help you with?'

'We were looking for some wand-quality wood, Mr Merlinus.' Hermione said.

'Marcus, please. So you want wand-wood do you? I think we can arrange something on that front. It just so happens we have a wand wood in the grounds. What tree?'

'Oak, if that's possible.'

'Of course it is. Certainly we don't have that much of it- the big storms last year took care of the bigger ones, but there's still plenty left.

They followed Marcus around the side of the palatial mansion and out, over the vast flat lawns and into the wood.

'I do hope you'll excuse the general scruffiness of the place. We've had a pruning session recently and I haven't finished tidying up.'

'You work your own land?'

'In general, no, but the wand wood is important. I wouldn't want to leave that to anyone else.'

They walked through the leafy paths into the depths of the wood where the paths gave way to tracks in the ivy that covered the whole forest floor.

'The best oak for wand wood at the moment is this way.'

'Thanks for showing us the way. How on earth do you know it. We've been walking for ages now and well, I can't tell where we came from.'

'Oh, it's easy enough to learn most of the paths if you spend enough time out here. I always used to play here as a child, running about, pretending I was Sir Lancelot or Sir Bedevere.'

'Really?'

'Oh yes, it's about the only way you can learn it. I still spend most of my time out here, mind, I'm only at the ministry on weekends. Lucky you came in that day really, or you'd've found someone else there. Well, here we are. If you wouldn't mind using this pruning knife to get the particular branch off, I'd be grateful, a nice clean cut helps keeps the trees healthier.'

'Righty-ho. Can I climb it?'

'Of course. It's a tree, isn't it?'

And with that Draco gave an almighty bound and grabbed hold of a branch that was at least ten foot in the air. Walking his legs up the trunk , he was soon up in the tree, way above ground level. The knife in one pocket he climbed ever higher, until he found alength of wood that felt about right in his hand. He cut it and stuck the stick in his pocket, before climbing down and making a last jump to ground level.

'I had no idea you were such a monkey, Draco.' Hermione teased.

'Well, one tree is much like another.' Draco said modestly. It had been a rewarding climb.

'Well, that's your wand casing sorted, may I ask what you're looking to put in it?'

'Unicorn horn.'

'Unicorn horn , eh? Unusual core that, capable of quite powerful magic, at least according to legend, but, I am led to understand, like all unicorn cores, it doesn't tolerate dark magic. Well, good luck to you with it, I hope the process goes smoothly. Now, I'm afraid I can't hang around chatting for too long, a deputation of Death Eaters are coming and one has to do one's best to stop them making a mess of the place. I assume you'll want to be off?' They nodded. 'Very well. Well, I'll say goodbye for now, but I've a sneaking suspicion we'll meet before the end.'

Marcus apparated away- presumably back to the big house –leaving Hermione and Draco very perplexed.

'Well, what do you think that was all about, he'll see us before the end?'

'I think he meant the war- foresight run's in the family apparently, it's one of the reasons they're so powerful, never put a foot wrong. Once you know that, the conclusion seems rather inevitable.'

'It does rather. Well, shall we go back to see Harry?'

'I suppose so. You don't think he'll mind if I keep his knife until we next meet do you? After all, he'll never find it if we leave it out here, and going to the house to give it to him doesn't seem like an option either- you heard what he said about Death Eaters.'

'Indeed. Come on, let's go.'


	56. Chapter 56

Draco worked carefully on his wand for the next few days, carefully using the little files to produce a hole of exactly the right size for the shard of unicorn horn to go inside. Then it was done. With the hole carefully prepared, the core was dropped in and all that remained was to cap the wand with its handle. Then, Draco had himself a wand. As he picked it up he felt a strange feeling go through him. He smiled, for the first time since Godric's Hollow. It went broadly unnoticed, except for Hermione, who was looking at him at the time, and sighed.

'It's nice to see you smile, Draco.'

'It's nice to have something to smile about. Thanks for your help Hermione, his wand. I don't know, it just feels better than the old one.'

'Perhaps it suits you better.'

'Yeah, but the old one always had done, it's not as if it ever dropped off in performance or anything.'

'True, but I think you're a very different person to the eleven year old that bought that wand, Draco.'

'I'm not sure.'

'You are, Draco. You've gone from being a totally insensitive snob to being the kindest man I know.'

'Thanks, Hermione.' Draco said blushing.

'I mean it. Take Ron for example, he runs out on me after we've been going out for months and now he's back at Hogwarts, all over Lavender Brown like a rash. He seems really nice, and yet is about as sensitive as a brick wall.'

'How do you know..'

'Oh, Harry was looking at the Marauder's map again, he was looking at Ginny apparently, which is kind of cute really, but he saw Rona and Lavender together in the Gryffindor common room. Their dots were distinctly overlapping.'

'At school?'

'Apparently so.'

'Dirty devil.' They sat in silence for a while, then Hermione spoke.

'Well, how's it work then?'

'Like any normal wand.'

'No, go on, let's see you use it.'

Oh, go on then. What do you want me to do?'

'How's your transfiguration, let's see if you can... conjure a desk out of thin air.'

'Alright. What colour?'

'You think you can manage the colour?'

'We'll see.'

'Bright orange leather in mahogany, please.'

'One desk, coming up.'

Draco waved his wand and, just as he had hoped a desk appeared, with orange leather inlaid into deep mahogany.

'Nice. Pity we don't have any room for it.'

'True.'

Draco waved his wand and banished it again.

'Works well. Thanks Hermione.'

'Not a problem. We stand a far better chance where we're going if you've got a working wand.'

'Perhaps. So, how's the planning going. I guess you two must have nearly sorted it out by now.'

'Pretty much. Harry came up with a great idea of how we get out.'

'Go on.'

'We don't.'

'What do you mean we don't? I for one don't want to die in Gringotts.'

'No, but we can make ourselves invisible, right. All we have to do is break in clumsily and the goblin's will come and investigate. We then hijack they crazy cart thing and then when we're back on the surface we can get to the exit and apparate away quite easily.'

'I hope you're right about that.'

'If not, we're bound to think of something, right?'

'I suppose so. I'm still going to look up as many blasting spells as possible, just in case.'

'If you must. We're planning on leaving after lunch.'

'That soon?'

'Yeah, seems to me the sooner the better, really. The sooner we do it, the less chance they have to upgrade their defences or move the cup or. Well, anything really. Anyway, it'll be fun.'

'Fun? You think a bank robbery is fun?''

'Well, playing dress up to get in's quite fun, then I'm exploring somewhere new, and you've got to admit, it's going to be pretty exciting isn't it?'

'I suppose so.'

'Well, cheer up. We've got potatoes and onions for lunch, and then we're going.'

'Well, if all else fails we can always try breathing on them after that. It should polish them off no trouble.'

'Well, it was you who picked them up. Remember that.'

'I do.'

A hearty last meal of potatoes and onions, only slightly burnt, had been prepared by Harry and they tucked in greedily to the pile of food as soon as it was ready.

'Thanks Harry. This is really good – barely any burnt bits at all.'

'Thanks. It's not too hard as long as you keep stirring.'

'You must have been stirring like a maniac then.'

'Not far off.' Said Harry, a huge grin filling his face. They ate and decided on their disguises, which Draco and Hermione applied magically before Harry threw his invisibility cloak over the lot. Well, it was now or never. Once more greatly appreciative of the convenience of magical travel, they apparated into the back yard of the leaky cauldron. Hermione tapped the brickwork a couple of times, as Draco had first seen his Father do so many years ago. Draco waved the thought from his mind, needing to concentrate on other things, including keeping in character. They strode purposefully down the alley, past many burnt out and abandoned shops, past the vibrant Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which now was bereft of the edible dark marks and Death Eater themed practical jokes that had once filled the window. Nonetheless, with new ranges such as "the boy-who-disappeared" invisibility hats, business was apparently still doing well. Given that Draco was sure the Weasley twins knew about Harry's cloak, it brought a cheerful smile to his face. There was no way they hadn't been thinking of that when they made them. Draco bit the inside of his lip gently, the discomfort keeping his mind on the task in hand. He made a few big paces to catch up with Hermione- disguised as someone they had made up on the spot- and trusting Harry to confound the guards on the door armed with probity probes, walked straight into the bank itself. Waltzing up to the main counter they handed over Harry's key and asked to be taken to vault 687 – Harry's vault. The goblin looked at them, nodded and led them towards the carts. They boarded and a quick tap on his shoulder told Draco that Harry was on board.

'Well, let's get going then.'

'Of course.' The goblin said, hatred ingrained in his voice. The cart plummeted and Hermione looked slightly ill. Draco didn't feel ill, but remembered a bittersweet mix of memories, some of his father, some of flying at school, all of them brought back by the feel of the air rushing past his face. The cart came to a halt and queasily they got out. Some quick charmwork from Harry and the goblin was under his control, taking them to the Lestrange Vault instead. They climbed back onto the cart and went ever deeper. The rails seemed smoother now, and they certainly twisted less. That was good, everything was going far more smoothly. Draco looked around him, wondering whether this was going to be easier than they had thought. The cart stopped once again and the goblin led them on, ever deeper into the maze that made up the bank. Draco dropped some soil from his pocket every ten paces, hoping against hope that they would remain long enough to lead them out later on. Then they saw the dragon. The goblin had clearly forgotten some sort of procedure as it carried on regardless, only to be incinerated by the Dragon's breath.

'What do we do now?'

'Well, I'd suggest that first of all we try desperately to subdue that blasted dragon, before we become blasted little witches and wizards.' Draco suggested.

'How though? I know you're supposed to go for the eyes, but frankly, I don't think a conjunctivitis curse will cut it.'

'No, but aiming for the eyes doesn't mean you have to curse the eyes, they're just the vulnerable spot.' At that moment the dragon decided it would be a good idea to walk round the corner and find out what the noise was all about. It poked it's head round and saw, in the dim light, a trio of people. The dragon breathed in to flame and then suddenly it heard a strange noise

'_Debilito._' The dragon collapsed into a heap, its flame ducts sealed and its muscles refusing to do what it wanted them to do.

'There we go. One times dragon dealt with. Now, where do you think that vault is?'

'We can't be that far away. There's a vault over there, do you think that could have been what we were going for?'

'It's worth a look. What's the worst that can happen?'

'Well, the dragon could wake up again.' Hermione pointed out.

'It shouldn't for a while.'

'That's something at least.' Said Harry removing the cloak. You know. I think this is the right vault.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Someone's carved the word Lestrange onto the door.'

'Seems like a good bet to me. How're we getting in?'

'I was rather hoping that we could use a lock picking spell.'

'Do they even exist?' Draco asked. Hermione merely smiled as if to say "watch this" and walked smartly up to the door. She stood there, thinking carefully, wand not moving at all. Then she waved her arm in a wide circle. From inside the door came the grinding of an ancient mechanism.

'Watch out!' Draco yelled. Hermione dived to one side as a nozzle opened in the middle of the door and squirted a foul smelling liquid out. Where it landed on the floor, the rock began to fizz and melt away.

'Well, they sure saw you coming, didn't they, Hermione. Any ideas about where you went wrong?'

'None.'

'Bugger.'

'You said it , Draco. That's the plan off the rails. Any ideas Hermione?'

'Didn't you say you could get sucked inside a vault if you touched the door. If we do that, then one of us can destroy the horcrux while the others try to escape.'

'I'll do it.' Draco said.

'What? No. There has to be another way.'

'Is there? When I've got this one there's only two left. Then you can get him. We can either stand out here for hours until someone comes to investigate why the door got set off, or else you two can escape . Go. I've got this one.'

'Draco. Surely there is something.'

'My mind is made up, Hermione. Good luck.' Draco stepped forwards touched the door and was sucked into the vault.

'What did you let him do that for? Help me get him out,'

'No. It's too dangerous, Hermione, we should respect his last wishes and leave.'

'How can you say that?'

'It's the sensible thing Hermione. Come on.'

'But, shouldn't we try to get him out?'

'No. Come on. It's the way things work. We leave him behind to save ourselves and then get blind drunk about it afterwards.'

Hermione followed Harry up the passageway they had just come down, past the dragon and back to the cart, sticking the gears into full reverse they had just enough time to hide under the cloak before they were back at ground level. Tears streaming down her face, Hermione stumbled after Harry out into the sunlight, where they apparated away back to the campsite.

Everywhere Hermione looked she saw something that reminded her of Draco. There was the place where he had smiled at her this morning, just after finishing his wand. There was where she had found him, crying himself to sleep over his father. There. It was no good. Tears once more began to well in Hermione's eyes and she stumbled through the kitchen doorway and collapsed on the same chair where Draco had brought her the tea that day Ron had left. On the table there was a note that hadn't been there before they had left. What could it be? Using her sleeves to wipe the tears from her eyes, Hermione picked it up and started to read.

_Dear Hermione,_

_If you are reading this then you have found the letter on the table. It was charmed to appear whenever it seemed improbable that I should ever return. I'm not very good at talking about feelings, I'm sure you've noticed by now, but since I am now no longer with you it would seem like I can avoid any awkwardness. Hermione. I would just like to say thank you. Thank you for all the times you've stuck by me when no-one else has. I don't know where I'll be when you read this, but, above the ground or under it, I know I'll be missing you._

_Now, do me a favour. Live life to the full, enjoy yourself to the full. As I'm writing this you're next door crying over Ron. I wish in many ways that you could cry that way over me, but I know that can never happen. Forget me. _

_Yours eternally._

_Draco_

_XXX._


	57. Chapter 57

'You awake Harry?'

'Yeah. Can't sleep.'

'Neither can I. Do you think he?'

'No. I can't see how. After all, that letter wouldn't have come through if he was coming back, would it?'

'He might have made a mistake, you know, it came when it wasn't supposed to or something.'

'Hermione, when was the last time Draco made a mistake?'

'Apart from when he went in to that vault?'

'Come on, Hermione, that's not fair. He didn't exactly do it by accident. He just did something incredibly brave to defeat you-know-who and you're saying it was a mistake.'

'I know. But I want him back, Harry. It's just not the same without him here.'

'Me too Hermione, me too. Come on.' Harry opened his arms and gestured for Hermione to come over for a friendly cuddle.

'I miss him, Harry.'

'Me too, Hermione. Me too.'

Hermione sat there, Harry's arms wrapped around her, wishing they were Draco's. It felt wrong, being in Draco's tent without Draco, but it made sense to stay, hoping against hope that Draco might turn up and say "Done it!" with a huge smile on his face. He'd had lovely smiles, Hermione thought to herself. Absolutely lovely. And now they were, well, not so much gone as locked up deep underground, waiting to die, sacrificed to the cause. Oh, Draco. Why did you have to go? At least Ron could've come back, even if he has gone back to Lavender. He's alive at least. He's alive.

Time passed them by in the tent, days, weeks could've passed, and the only indication of the passage of time was the ever-dwindling food supplies. Every day Hermione felt sad. A sense of loss pervaded everything she did. Harry had taken the lead on almost everything since the bank raid, his visions were coming ever more often now. It seemed that you-know-who was after a bloke called Gregorovitch, searching for some sort of wand, any wand that could without doubt beat Harry's own. One night, Voldemort's target changed. Now he was hunting Grindelwald. Despite objections from Hermione, who was adamant that they should only pursue the horcruxes, Harry began studying everything to try and work out why Voldemort was after such a specific wand. Looking through Hermione's copy of the tales of Beedle the Bard, Harry found something curious.

'Hermione?'

'Yeah.'

'What's this symbol?' He was pointing at a strange set of scratches in the title of one of the stories.

'I'm not sure. It's not a rune, but it seems to keep cropping up.' Unlike Draco, she thought.

'Well, I know Krum said it was Grindelwald's symbol, didn't he, but Luna's Dad was wearing it at the wedding, so it clearly means something else too. And it was on that old grave in Godric's Hollow.'

'It was.'

'I think we need to visit Xeno Lovegood.'

'Why?'

'He wore the symbol. He might now what it means.'

'He probably thinks it's the cross-section of the horn of a crumple-horned snorckack or something. Is it worth it, Harry?'

'Well, Luna said she was locked up to keep her dad quiet, didn't she.'

'Yeah. Don't you think he's going to have learnt his lesson and report you the moment you show up on his doorstep?'

'Maybe, but I think it's worth the risk. Dumbledore must have put this symbol in himself. It must be a clue. And we haven't got any others to go on. What if this leads to a horcrux? You never know, do you? Perhaps it's the symbol for Ravenclaw's thingy? Old Xeno might have been in Ravenclaw like Luna, so, wouldn't it be worth a try? What's the worst that can happen? He tries to report us, we vanish, problem solved.'

'Alright then. I think we should come up with a plan before we go though.'

'Fine. I'll think about it.'

'Go ahead.' Hermione said grudgingly, wishing that Draco was here. Perhaps he knew what it meant. Now they couldn't ask him.

'You haven't seen my razor have you?' A familiar voice asked. Hermione turned around.


	58. Chapter 58

Draco felt like he had been reassembled in the wrong order. The door had sucked him in and knocked him out. Through the haze of unconsciousness he thought he had heard the sound of raised voices and running feet, that must have been them leaving. Before long he woke up. All around him was pitch darkness. Draco felt inside his pockets for his wand. Good, it had survived the trip. He had half expected to be left in here without it, not that that would have mattered for the time being, he could do what he wanted to do next without a wand. A swift movement and the vault was lit up. Draco's eyes, long adjusted to the gloom, were dazzled by the reflection of the light. Every way Draco looked there was gold, silver and jewels. With the contents of this vault, you could buy your way to anything you wanted. No wonder the Lestranges were so feared, with this waiting here, there was nothing they couldn't bribe their way out of. Except prosecution by Barty Crouch Senior, Draco added with a small smile. It was good to know that evil didn't always win. It gave him hope that this wasn't for nothing. Now, time to find that blasted cup. Was that it over there? Draco tried a summoning charm but nothing happened. Never mind. There were plenty more fish in the sea. There was no clear path to the back wall where the cup sat on a shelf, and Draco felt his wasn't the time or place to try and work out how to fly without a broomstick. Well, the only real way of getting there was to walk all over the contents of the vault. At the back of his mind, something was telling Draco that wasn't a good idea. He remembered his father showing him how to disable spells in the Malfoy family vault many years ago. Now what were the odds that something similar wasn't in place here? Time to try and work it out.

Draco sat crossed legged on the floor, sensing the magic around him. What could it be? There was definitely something all over the treasure, something almost undetectable. A sweep of his wand and the magical disturbance vanished? Was that it gone. Well, only one way to find out for sure. Draco touched the treasure and yelped as it burned red hot in his hand. A flagrante curse, apparently. That was easily enough fixed. Another wave and Draco wished that he hadn't touched the treasure with his wand hand, which was already beginning to blister. Draco touched the gold a little more carefully this time. No, nothing. Good. Whatever it was was gone. Draco stood up and calmly walked through the vault to the shelf where the cup sat, fearing that he'd missed something. Then, he was at the cup. He checked it over for any dark magic, thinking about Dumbledore's hand and found nothing. He picked it up. The metal felt icy cold to the touch, as if something was taking all of the warmth from it. A shiver went up Draco's spine. That was it, the cup. Now, how could he destroy it? Well, short of there being a vial of basilisk venom in here- unlikely, Draco admitted- then he would have to use fiendfyre. But that would almost certainly kill him if he were to use it in here, even if he didn't make a mistake. Draco stuffed the cup into the biggest pocket he had. Now, time to pay attention to escape. Was it possible? Draco through his weight at the door, and ended up with nothing more than a bruised shoulder for his troubles. That wasn't going to work. How about digging his way out through the walls?

The excavation charm Draco tried bounced off of the wall and he dived to avoid it, landing face first into a pile of knuts. Great. Above him the charm carried on bouncing until at last it hit the edge of the door and vanished. Draco got up. That was better. Now, had it had any effect. No. The door seemed unperturbed. The thought came to Draco that he might not be able to escape after all. He'd been so confident when he had come in, but now, les so. Draco's heart fell at the thought that he would die here, in his long dead aunt's bank vault. By the time anyone discovered him, he'd probably be an unidentifiable skeleton. Who knows. By the time he got out of here. No, by the time his body was arrived out of here, the war might be over. No-one would shed a tear over him anyway. Perhaps this was fate's way of punishing him for killing his father. Overwhelmed by feelings of despair, Draco sat down. His mind felt like crying, but his body wouldn't let him. Perhaps this was the last sign that he had left childhood behind. What a place to become a man. Trapped in a stone prison. It might be full of gold, but right now, Draco would have given it all for a way out. Not that it was his anyway, was it? No. Bloody uncles, if they weren't alive he could have just waltzed his way in as the heir. Well, an heir, anyway, aunt Andromeda might come first. Or then again maybe not. There was no way that she'd not have been written out of any will of the Lestranges. Draco looked to his right and saw a small pile of brown, earthy dust. Where had that come from? Who knew? He put his hands down to get up and stretch his legs when the sudden jolt of pain reminded him about his hand. Ow. Draco did what he could to numb the pain coming from his hand and looked back at the pile of earth. It looked bigger. Where could it be coming from? Well, things fell down, so that made sense. Great, so now the ceiling was collapsing, just what he needed. At least he had air at the moment, even if there wasn't anything particularly savoury to drink. Never mind. Better a quick death than a slow uncomfortable one. Much better. Draco looked back at the pile of earth. That was odd. It wasn't growing as it should if the soil was coming from _there_, so where was it coming from? Draco had a closer look and noticed a small trickle falling down into it. Where was it coming from? The wall? But that didn't make sense. Why was the solid rock around the door disintegrating? Then it struck Draco that the spot the rock dust was falling from was roughly where the excavation spell had earthed itself. Looks like he was tunnelling out of here. Woo. Draco thought to himself sarcastically. This has to be the slowest escape since Roger the tortoise decided he didn't like it in his whatever-it-was-you-kept-tortoises-in. Great , not in here for two hours and already loosing the ability to think straight. But still, it was an escape. All he had to do was wait and i would take care of itself. Draco lay down on the cold floor and wished that he had more layers on. Well. Here's hoping that he wouldn't die before the hole finished growing. Draco extinguished his light and curled up to try and keep warm. Well, he might as well get some sleep while he was waiting. Draco drifted off into a peaceful sleep, the only noise to be heard his own soft breathing and the falling of dust, the only light that squeezing through the keyhole of the door. Draco woke, hungry and thirsty. What was the time? Twenty past two. Was it the morning or the afternoon Draco couldn't tell. Slowly his bladder started telling him that he needed to escape. Not yet though. How had the tunnelling progressed. Not well. The hole was barely big enough to fit a piece of paper through, but it was growing around the door. Well, that was one way to find a weakness. Draco was glad he had, now he could count down the days until he could escape, or at least make the attempt. It wouldn't be long now. After all, he probably hadn't been asleep that long, had he? He might have been, and the door was only a third undercut. What would happen when it did? Would the door fall out, or would it need pushing? Then Draco remembered the dragon. Great. He'd have to deal with that again. Then he'd have to get out, presumably without a cart. That could only end badly. Unless. Well, they'd ridden dragons in the goblin rebellion of 1342, hadn't they? Perhaps he could give that a go. It'd be spectacular.

Probably not very successful though. There were ways of bringing down dragons.

But it only had to get him out of the bank. It was worth a try.

But not yet. Now Draco had to play the waiting game. So he sat and waited and slept and waited. He seemed to be there for an eternity, his lips felt dry and he felt hungry, so hungry. Well, let's hope no one found him before he'd had something to eat. He was always grumpy when he hadn't had anything to eat for a while. The hours went past, each stretching out as if to fill an aeon. Slowly the barrier to Draco's freedom disintegrated. It was nearly there, barely any to go, and already Draco could just about see out, if he forced his eye to the crack. So there Draco sat, wand in hand, staring out at the bored dragon. It looked rather pitiful just lying there. Suddenly the dragon sat up and roared. It had heard something, so had Draco, it was gobbledegook, straight from the mouth of an irritated goblin. Using some rattly thing to subdue the dragon, the goblin approached. Draco sat still , hoping that they wouldn't notice the crack. They were just here to check on the dragon, weren't they? No, they were still approaching his hiding place. Draco didn't know what they would do if they found him, but rather suspected that they wouldn't say "naughty, naughty" and let him off with a smacked wrist. The goblins stood outside the door. He could see them, standing there. No, there was no way that they had seen him, the crack was too small for them to even notice. Inside the vault it was pitch black and Draco's eye picked up every sight it could. The goblins looked at each other, said something Draco didn't understand, shrugged and walked off. They must have decided that whatever it was was a false alarm. They turned their backs and walked off. They had rounded the corner and the dragon settled back down to its usual, bored position. When suddenly it felt very quiet. The silence was odd, there was still the sound of his own breathing, and the dragons, but something had stopped. What was it? Draco stepped back and looked up at the door. Ahh, that was it. The door was surrounded in a halo of light, the excavation charm had finished its work at long last. Draco took a deep breath, seized his wand tightly in his fist and cast a spell at the door, which buckled, and slowly fell outwards. The great door fell slowly but still made a huge noise when it hit the floor. Time to deal with the dragon. Draco ran out, rolled under the jet of flames and found himself by the dragon. Quickly he leaped up onto its back and hoping that the spines weren't poisonous, took a firm seat. The dragon reared, but Draco gripped tightly with his legs and stayed on. Two jabs with his wand destroyed the chains which held the dragon put and he was off, far faster than he wanted. The dragon seemed to have forgotten about him, and was instead chasing after the goblins, who were hurrying back to investigate the noise. A tongue of flame met them on their way and they were nothing other than ash on the floor. Still the dragon ignored Draco, keen to leave. Perhaps it knew that Draco would help it, perhaps it simply didn't know he was there. Draco raised his arm to wipe his face, which had gotten rather sweaty with the heat and found his face rather scratchy. He'd need a shave when he got back to his razor- that was certain. Draco flattened himself against the dragon as it beat its wings and clumsily began to fly. It seemed that it wasn't something the dragon had had much practise at, as they scraped against walls and rails on the way up. Slowly though, the dragon seemed to have gotten a hang of it, and was speeding up. Draco looke forwards and then wished the dragon had learnt about breaking. There was nothing for it.

'_bombarda._' The wall in front of them gave way and the dragon soared through the rubble, out into the main lobby of the bank. Scream followed scream as the dragon incinerated anyone it saw, gradually working its way down to the main doors. It barged its way through, taking the doorframes with it. Draco slipped off the dragon's back and walked out behind it. The shock of a dragon had frozen nearly everyone in their tracks. Good, that would give him plenty of cover to get away. No-one would worry about him when there was a great big dragon in the street. Thanking his lucky stars, Draco apparated home to the dark forest where they had left the tent. He opened the flap and headed in, going straight towards his bedroom. That's funny, where had his razor gone? It wasn't in there anywhere. Draco walked through to the kitchen.

'You haven't seen my razor have you?' Draco asked Hermione. She turned around and a huge smile came to her face.

'Harry! Harry! Come quick.'

Harry came rushing in. He took one look at Draco and went pale, a smile coming to his lips.

'So, decided to come back, have you?'

'Well, there wasn't much to do there. It's nice to get away from everything every so often, but a change is as good as a rest, as they say.'

'It's good to have you back, Draco. 'Scuse me while I finish off upstairs will you?'

'Course.'

Harry left, leaving Draco alone with Hermione.

'I didn't think you were coming back.'

'Neither did I, for a while.'

'Draco. There was a letter.'

'I see.'

'Did you mean it?'

'Every word.'

'Come here.'


	59. Chapter 59

At length Draco pulled away from Hermione's embrace. Harry was standing there watching them.

'Welcome back, Draco. I won't try to beat Hermione's greeting.'

'Just as well. I don't think you could.' Draco said, smiling from ear to ear.

'I take it Hermione hasn't told you about our plans.'

'It's a bit difficult to explain that sort of thing with your mouth full.' Hermione said.

'I suppose so. You two aren't going to go all Ron and Lavender on me are you?'

'I'm making no promises.'

'Oh good. Well, I was thinking of visiting Xenophilius Lovegood, Draco.'

'What? That old nutter? Why?'

'Well, this symbol's kept cropping up. You remember it was on that gravestone. Well, it's in this book Dumbledore left Hermione.'

'Yeah, you mentioned.'

'Well, do you want to look?'

'Oh, go on then. It can't hurt can it?'

'I suppose not. Where'd you leave it, Hermione?'

'It's behind you, on the table.'

'Oh, right.' Harry turned round, picked the book up and opened it to a well thumbed page.

'Here. The tale of three brothers.'

'Oh. I never liked that one. You know about the conspiracy theory around it, I presume?'

'Conspiracy theory?'

'Oh yes, your whackjobs like Lovegood- senior that is, are the sort that believe the tale is actually true. They say that there were three brothers, who had these objects. The unbeatable wand, the stone with the power to recall the dead and Death's invisibility cloak.'

'And?

'Well, personally, I think it's bunk. Possibly some brothers did create some powerful objects a long time ago, but that's no reason that they can't be beaten. I'm not saying it's not got some basis of truth to it- after all, the average lifetime of an invisibility cloak simply isn't long enough for one to be passed down from father to son and.'

'Hang on. That can't be right can it, I mean, this was my Dad's.' Harry said, brandishing the cloak.

'Exactly. I reckon that's probably the cloak everyone was banging on about. The Dark Lord it appears is hunting for the wand.

'If he finds it.' Hermione gasped.

'Nonsense. If he finds it, there's a good chance it won't work for him and even if it does it doesn't matter. The wand's owner's been beaten enough times in history, or at least, so Binn's told me.'

'You studied this in History of Magic?'

'Oh, yeah. This wand, by any name, be it the Deathstick or the Elder wand, crops up loads of time, usually in the hands of some absolute maniac trying to take over the world. It disappears occasionally, but it usually show up. I'd be surprised if a really determined wizard couldn't find it.'

'You-Know-Who thinks Grindelwald's got it.'

'Him. No chance. If Dumbledore beat him, there's no way he'd still have it, and he's been locked up since then- absolutely no chance to have found it. If he had it before then, I can't see Dumbledore not taking it, can you?'

'You reckon Dumbledore had it?'

'Why not? It's a good a bet as any, and you can't disprove it.'

'And the final thing. The stone thingy?'

'Well, it's supposed to bring people back from the dead, only not very well- the story covers that. If that exists then it really would be quite interesting to find out how it worked, particularly from a historical perspective. Think of all the interviews you could do.'

'Oh, great. An object that can bring people back from the dead and you want to do interviews of famous dead people.'

'And I suppose you'd rather bring back your parents?'

'Damn right I would.'

'I understand. Certainly wouldn't do it myself, the world's far better off without them. Well, my father anyway. I'd rather have the wand. Grab it, deal with _him_ and then sit back and relax. It'd certainly help.'

'You're supposed to want the cloak though, aren't you? It's better to have safety and security than power any day, and lingering on the past isn't healthy either. It's what Dumbledore said to you when you found that mirror in first year Harry.'

'I suppose you're right. You usually are.'

'Nonetheless, it doesn't give us much of an idea about what to do next, does it. I half thought it might be a good idea to go after these objects, but I suppose for all that it's back to Horcruxes. Still, don't you think it would be a good idea to get the wand before Lord thinggum? After all, if _he_ gets it, it'll only cause problems.'

'You've got a point, but I think him being immortal is probably a bigger problem.'

'So you think we should press on with the horcruxes regardless.'

'I do.'

'Then we're going to need to find the last ones, aren't we. I fancy ignoring the snake for a while though, leave that 'til last, if you don't mind.'

'No, that's a good idea.'

'But that's the only one we know about.'

'Yeah, but _he_'s bound to notice it if his pet goes missing, isn't he?'

'Exactly. I still reckon Hogwarts would be worth a try.'

'Still?'

'Yeah, well it does make sense, doesn't it? The whole point of those lessons of mine with Dumbledore last year were all about trying to understand how he thinks. Hogwarts was an important place to him, it only makes sense that he'd leave on there.'

'Yeah, but where? Hogwarts is huge?'

'I don't know. Depends what it was?'

'You don't think he'd have left it down in the chamber of secrets, do you?'

'Nah. We've already been down there. Didn't find anything then, did we?'

'But we weren't looking'

'I still don't think it's down there. It's too, well, humble for him. It's a bit of a grotty place, all things said and done, and I don't think he'd leave it down there. He's too proud for that. It's more likely to be somewhere really obvious, where anyone could find it if they looked hard enough.'

'Then how come Dumbledore didn't find it?'

'I don't think Dumbledore got to the bottom of that place. Down in the chamber Riddle claimed that he'd explored more of Hogwarts than any other student. Strikes me that that might be something to do with his, shall we say, rule-bending.'

'And you don't think Dumbledore bent rules, is that what you're saying?'

'Precisely.'

'So, we want something really famous, somewhere really obvious in Hogwarts to a Slytherin fifty years ago.'

'Yes. Doesn't sound quite so hopeful when you put it that way.'

'No, it doesn't does it?'

'The big problem there of course is we don't know what side Snape's on, do we? Dumbledore always trusted him, and he's not exactly done anything to show for certain that he didn't deserve that trust. If we had his support we could probably search the castle from top to bottom without anyone finding out. Shame it wasn't McGonagall who got the top spot really, we know we could have trusted her.' Hermione sighed.

'Bit of a moot point really. She didn't, Snape did.'

'Still, might be worth a try.'

'Eventually.'

'I was thinking sooner. Perhaps if we can get into Ravenclaw tower there might be some clue there about which objects she's left behind.'

'But what about making a plan?'

'There's plenty of time for a. Ooh.' Harry sat down sharply, his hand flying to his scar.'

'What's wrong Harry?'

'Scar. It's him. He's found Grindelwald.'

It was strange watching Harry receiving these visions, even now. Occasionally he groaned, but mostly he just twitched slightly. They sat still and tired to keep him away from anything sharp of heavy- not difficult given he was sat in the heavy, if somewhat collapsed, armchair. Eventually, Harry came to, phasing back into reality where they were, rather than wherever he had been. It wasn't good, was it?

'What is it Harry?'

'He found Grindelwald. He asked about the wand. He didn't give it up, but he guessed. He guessed. He's going to Hogwarts now to claim it.'

'Best we stay away then.'

'I suppose there's no chance of us beating him there?'

'Not if we want to make it out alive there isn't.'

'He felt a flush of happiness when he thought about Hogwarts though. I told you it was important to him.'

'Yes, yes. Well done. That's not really the important bi though, is it? Draco. Do you know of anything left behind by Ravenclaw?'

'No. We never looked at anything like that in History. It's nice and all, but it's not really all that important what they left behind. The only thing of any consequence that they did leave was the sorting hat. And possibly the basilisk. None of that was even mentioned. It's a bit niche all that "look what some famous wizard owned, now it's mine" thing. You have to be a seriously old an powerful family to have something like that.'

'You'd know about it.'

'Not really. After Septimus Malfoy bankrupted the family, we had to sell anything of that sort off. Septimus' son had to join the Navy. Sailed round the world and got enough prize money to buy back the manor and a lot of stuff, but a lot of the old heirlooms were lost then. To be frank, I think a lot of the really old families still see us as being nouveau riche.'

'How long ago are we talking about?'

'Oh, about three hundred years.'

'Positively recently then.' Hermione said sarcastically. Draco smiled in answer.

'The other thing we could look into is another attempt on Gringotts.'

'Why?'

'To get the Horcrux, Draco. Blimey, why do you think we went there in the first place?'

'What. This horcrux?' Draco asked, pulling the small, golden chalice from a pocket.

'You got it! Why didn't you say?'

'There didn't seem like a good moment to mention it.'

'Draco.' Hermione sighed exasperatedly.

'Well, that's something at least. How are we going to destroy it?'

'I thought it might be worth giving fiendfyre a g, but I was hoping to have another look in the book before doing it. If you get it wrong it's nasty stuff.'

'It can't be worse than being partnered with Neville in potions can it?'

'No. It's not that bad. It's even worse. This stuff'll burn you up without thinking about it, it won't go out unless it runs out of fuel or the person who casts it gets rid of it. I can't remember what the cancelling charm was, or I'd've gotten rid of it already.'

'Very well. If that's what you think, then we can always get rid of it in the morning. I'm going outside to take watch.'

'You sure, Hermione?'

'Yeah.'

'Wait up a mo then. I'll bring a blanket to keep us warm.'

'What, you're coming to?'

'It wouldn't be very proper of me to leave a Lady outside on a night like this when I'm tucked up inside all warm and dry.'

'But what about your shift?'

'I'll do that after yours. I'm sure Harry won't mind if we swap.'

'Go ahead, it'll be nice to get an unbroken night in for a change.'

'Go on then. I won't deny it can get a little lonely out there.'

Draco pulled a blanket off of the pile on the chair in his room and followed Hermione outside. They sat down at the base of a tall oak and spread the blanket out to cover them. Draco could feel the warmth of Hermione's body through his clothes and he put his arm around her. She laid her head against his chest and he smiled, leaning his head back towards her.

'Draco. That letter. Did you really mean it?'

'Which bit?'

'About you wanting me to cry over you like I did over Ron?'

'No. Well. Yes. Sorry. I'm not making myself clear. Hermione. I'd love it for you to feel that way about me that you would cry over me, but I wouldn't ever want you to cry. I don't think I can handle seeing you cry.'

'Just as well you weren't here then.'

'What?'

'When you were gone. I did cry Draco. I did.'

'Hermione.'

'Yes?'

'I'm not worth it you know. I meant the other bit too. I know I'm back, but I think you should look for someone else. It's not that I don't love you.' Draco added quickly, 'It's just, well, I don't think you should be lumbered with me. I mean, what am I? A miserable bastard who killed his own father and is about as capable of happiness as this tree. I love you, Hermione. I just think you'd be happier with someone else.'

'Draco. Stop being silly. You're capable of happiness, of course you are. It's just you've never had anything much to be happy about.'

'Except you. Every time I look at you, no matter how bad I'm feeling I always find myself smiling. I can't help it. Every time I see you I just feel better, Hermione. I know I shouldn't. Well, maybe not, but I was always brought up to believe I should look for a pureblood to marry and settle down with. Instead, I've found myself falling in love with the most beautiful, and the most intelligent witch alive today.'

'You don't still believe in all that pureblood stuff, do you?'

'No. I think I understand the point behind it, in that the stronger the parents are, magically speaking, the stronger the children will be. I'm just not sure that strength is exclusive to purebloods. I can't really, you're living proof against it.'

'Draco.'

'Yes.'

'You're waffling.'

'Sorry. It's just I. No. I'm still waffling, aren't I?'

'Pretty much.'

'Sorry.'

'No problem.'

They sat in silence as the wind and occasional showers washed by them, sitting there out in the open for what seemed like hours. Hermione broke the silence.

'How long, Draco?'

'How long what?'

'How long have you. You know, loved me?'

'I couldn't rightly say. I mean, it wasn't when I first met you. I've always been an appalling judge of character, and all I felt then was that you were incredibly bossy. Certainly there was something there by fourth year though, You know I stayed away from the Yule Ball. I think I said at the time that it was because my mother had just died, but , if I'm being honest there was also the feeling that I wanted to go with you and well, since I couldn't it would be going behind your back if I was to go with someone else.'

'Really?'

'Really.'

'You muppet, Draco. Do you really think I'd've cared?'

'No. But it seemed like the right thing. I know you're going to hat me for this, but I was really hoping it wouldn't work out between you and Ron. When you first started going out, well, my heart sank when I heard about it. I never thought I'd be happy again.'

'Draco.' Hermione sighed, gently shaking her head, 'Why didn't you say something? If you'd asked me out first then well, who knows?'

'I don't know. I didn't want to be forward, I guess.'

'Well, you've certainly avoided that.'

'I know. I've never been very good at being honest about how I feel. I tend to just keep it to myself. Bottle it up and ignore it until it goes away. Above all, I think I was afraid of being hurt. I'm a terrible coward you know, deep down. I've never told anyone before, but I am. I've been so afraid of getting rejected that I've never let anyone get close. No-one. I only told you what I felt in such a way that I'd be dead before you found out, just to avoid it.'

'Surely you didn't think I'd reject you?'

'I didn't know. That was enough. As I said, I've never really been brave at all.'

'What about at Gringotts. I thought that was pretty brave, volunteering to go in there on your own.'

'I just did what needed doing so that you two would get out alive. It wasn't brave. Just necessary.'

'It was brave, Draco. You're a good person. Brave, kind. Handsome too. It's just well, if you stopped being so critical about yourself you might see it and be happy about yourself.'

Draco couldn't think of anything to say to that, and so didn't, just sitting there, cradling Hermione with one arm as the rain fell about them. At some point Hermione fell asleep and Draco sat there, here sleeping form in his arms, thinking. Thinking, and wishing he'd said all of this long ago.


End file.
